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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727724">What Makes a Mandalorian</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TranquilizedDropBear/pseuds/TranquilizedDropBear'>TranquilizedDropBear</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boba Fett Centric, Boba Fett is my favorite, Bromance to Romance, But please don't tell Boba he's soft, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Beta Read, Past Child Abuse, Sad Din Djarin, Soft Boba Fett, idiots to lovers, post Chapter 16, we die like warriors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:01:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>53,011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TranquilizedDropBear/pseuds/TranquilizedDropBear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Din Djarin must deal with a massive loss. </p><p>Luckily, Boba Fett knows a thing or two about that. </p><p>What the bounty hunter doesn't know anything about is how to deal with developing an actual bond with the Mandalorian. </p><p>Luckily, they're both just as lost in that regard. </p><p>((COMPLETE!!))<br/> </p><p>(I tried to make a better description!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cara Dune/Fennec Shand, Din Djarin &amp; Boba Fett, Din Djarin/Boba Fett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>707</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Injuries Beskar Doesn't Deflect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cara choosing to travel aboard <em>Slave I</em> was no surprise. Boba wasn’t sure if she chose to travel with them because of the Mandalorian or because of Fennec, but regardless he accepted that there would be three people in his ship other than himself. Before the sarlacc pit, that would not have been acceptable unless the other three were in carbonite. But now, it was nice to have people talking and a not-imaginary person sitting beside him. People he could trust. Even if he was not exactly certain of Dune, he was certain of the Mandalorian, and that was good enough.</p><p>Once the ship entered hyperspace, Boba removed his helmet and leaned back in the pilot’s seat with a sigh. It always felt comfortable with the streaks of light flying past the viewscreen, and currently reflecting off the shining beskar of his companion.</p><p>“I’m going to have Fennec take over watch,” Boba said as he turned fully towards Din.</p><p>The Mandalorian nodded and asked in a flat tone, “Will she mind my company?”</p><p>“She would likely appreciate Dune’s much more,” Boba said with a huff of a laugh.</p><p>Din was quiet for a few seconds, staring back at Boba before he finally nodded and said, “I see. Is there somewhere…”</p><p>“Use my bunk,” Boba said.</p><p>“You are tired,” Din said like Boba had turned into a very simple being.</p><p>Boba huffed again. “There’s other bunks. Mine is the only one other than Fennec’s that is fully private. While I know it is against your Creed to reveal your face, to never remove your armor would be detrimental to your health.”</p><p>Din nodded, taking his meaning. “Thank you.”</p><p>Fennec took her place at the controls, and Boba soon found himself sitting in the small gally alone after Dune followed his sharpshooter to the cockpit. He was happy there were no bounties on board. The ship was not meant for a large crew, though he’d taken on extra of everything to make sure everyone stayed alive and fairly comfortable. His ship was never meant for comfort, though he had made a few adjustments over the years.</p><p>After eating a ration pack and hopefully killing enough time for the Mandalorian to be safely behind the wall of his bunk, Boba climbed down to the cargo hold—or sleeping quarters if he was being generous. When there were bounties on board, they were stored in this area. But with the push of a button, walls folded out to create four small spaces. The first two were more like rooms with a small space to change clothes and a bed wide enough to sleep comfortably. The last two were for sleeping or holding prisoners not frozen in carbonite. The beds are still comfortable, but only wide enough for the average traveler.</p><p>Boba slept on much less comfortable surfaces than his own cots, and figured if the damned Mandalorian would get some sleep it would be worth it. He would punch anyone who called him altruistic, but that didn’t change the fact that Boba Fett tended to put the comfort of others ahead of his own. And it wasn’t that big of a deal. <em>The man has lost his child.</em></p><p>The man in question was still fully armored sitting on the floor with his feet propped against the wall of the neighboring bunk. His own habit of moving silent had caught the Mandalorian in a vulnerable moment—Boba could hear the distorted sounds picked up by the modulator. His arms were crossed over his chest, his hand a fist around the small orb he found in the wreckage of the Razor Crest.</p><p>A memory came to the forefront of Boba Fett’s mind. Something he’d not thought about possibly since it actually happened. He was in this same place on this ship, holding his father’s helmet and sobbing after burying his father’s body and escaping Geonosis. It was the only time he recalled crying in such a way, so hard that he could not breathe, that his face hurt, that he wished he would have died in that terrible place by the same hands that took his father from him. The ones with the laser swords and the ones who looked like his father. He remembered how desperately he wished his father was there to make the pain go away.</p><p>In all his years—and they suddenly felt so long—Boba Fett had never comforted anyone. He’d never felt the desire to do so. The Mandalorian, though, was someone whom he respected for reasons that possibly made very little sense to anyone outside of his sun-addled mind. He did not know how to be gentle with someone who was hurt—Fennec could vouch for that. The smartest thing for a man such as he to do would be to silently return to the gally and give the man his privacy.</p><p>Yet Boba walked the short distance and knelt down beside him. He did not fight or flinch when Boba’s arms wrapped around him. Instead, the Mandalorian collapsed against him as he shook with the power of his grief. This close, Boba could hear his muffled breath beneath the static coming from the helmet, and he tightened his hold and sat in the reverberating silence of the ship as he released everything he had suppressed since leaving the Imperial vessel.</p><p>Without thinking, Boba found himself speaking softly in <em>Mando’a</em>. He hadn’t spoken his father’s language much since his youth, but it rolled off his tongue with a fluency that Basic never quite managed. It seemed easier to say such sentimental nonsense in words that only he and the man in his arms could possibly understand, and he had no idea if the Mandalorian would even understand him. He said, “<em>It’s okay to feel this, my friend. I know it hurts greatly and your strength fails; let me be your strength for this time. Such pain cannot be borne alone. I do not know what it is like to lose a child in such a way, but I will help you through this darkness until your heart is again strong. Let me hold you, and I will keep you together.”</em></p><p>They were rocking slowly back and forth, and Boba was not sure when he began this slow motion. It seemed natural to do, yet strange. Boba had not held another in his arms in such a way since…</p><p>He could not recall. The idea of <em>never</em> seemed likely. Everyone was split into strict categories of <em>allies</em> and <em>adversaries</em>. That was Jango Fett’s Way. That was what was drilled into Boba from the time he was born. Friends were a weakness, and yet Boba had called Din a friend. Even worse, he meant it.</p><p>Boba tried to think of ways to kill a man in such a position. The way his head rested against Boba’s chest—Boba could recall a number of times necks had snapped under the force of his hands in such a position during the flow of combat at a moment of weakness. But this moment, it was a moment of intentional weakness that was never meant to be presented, and Boba had no intention of being anything but gentle. His fingers stroked against the handful of cape to fight off a fidget.</p><p>The Mandalorian seemed to relax, his rasping breath coming out slower until it finally evened out.</p><p>“You speak <em>Mando’a</em>,” he said, his modulator barely picking up the words over the static.</p><p>“My father spoke it at home,” Boba answered, equally soft.</p><p>He took a breath, and Boba released him the instant the Mandalorian started to move to sit up. He returned to his position against the wall with a heavy sigh, utterly and completely drained. For the second time, Boba wondered if his exhaustion caught up with him and he’d fallen asleep until Din said, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”</p><p>Boba nodded. Yes, he could see this man was absolutely lost and there was no way he was going to let him wander alone in such a state. He knew what he needed to do and what he would do. “You understood me, heard what I said to you, yes?”</p><p>After a moment, Din nodded.</p><p>“Now, we both need rest. I am going to get out of my armor, and I suggest you do the same because you smell like ten days of sweat and <em>karking</em> blaster residue,” Boba said with a gentle nudge to his shoulder that made Din shake his head in response. “I’m serious; use the fresher. This is me being a guiding light.”</p><p>“You’re an asshole, Fett,” Din said with a huff.</p><p>“This is <em>my </em>Way,” he said flatly. Boba kept his ship very clean; it was part of Jango Fett’s Way really. After a job, everything was cleaned and maintained. It was his preference, and more than once had been useful in recognizing when someone had entered his ship while he was gone. Few expected a bounty hunter to have such protocols.</p><p>He stood by the wall and carefully placed his helmet on the rack where he always kept it for so many years. It was easy to fall back into the habit, as if he hadn’t been without his father’s armor for so long. The other man did not speak or move.</p><p>“How familiar are you with Tatooine’s native culture?” Boba asked as he began removing his vambraces.</p><p>“I speak fluent Tuskanese,” Din said in a tone that showed how hard he struggled to follow.</p><p>The fact that he answered at all made the bounty hunter feel somewhat better. Boba still huffed a laugh as his chest piece came undone with the pressure clamps at his side. “That is impressive. I can’t speak it. I understand it well enough. I lived with them for some time—over a year—after I was pulled out of the sarlacc pit. A very interesting culture, far more complex than I ever imagined when just trading with them at the outposts.”</p><p>Din looked over his shoulder at him. “Why are we talking about Tuskans?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Boba said with a shrug as he bent down to remove his greaves and cuisses. He really wasn’t sure why he brought them up. He’d lived a lot of his life on Tatooine—far more of it there than most other planets, really—and it was a good fallback point. Once free of all the durasteel, Boba started to remove the extra layers of clothing starting with the wraps around his forearms. He shrugged and said, “They have many rituals for almost every aspect of life. One that I found fascinating was their ritual for the death of a member of their folk. I witnessed it several times while there because the Dune Sea is so merciless, and their lifespans are not long by most standards. They gather together to honor the one who passed, and the ones who are left behind by the one who passed are taken into the homes of others and cared for until their grief has passed. Elders take in any orphans.”</p><p>“Is this you attempting to take me into your home? Help me with my grief?” Din asked in a tone that could have been sardonic.</p><p>Boba folded his cloak and said, “Perhaps. I do not know the ways of Mandalorians. I have only one time in my life when another cared for me when I was in pain, and it is all I have to share.”</p><p>Din looked at the wall above where his feet were pressed. “My people—The Watch, I guess? We—” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Get drunk. Tell stories. Scream at the stars. But…” He shook his head. “That’s for the ones who fall in battle. Not for children who go where they are supposed to go. Not for doing one’s duty.”</p><p>“You have still suffered a loss, even if it is not death,” Boba said, his fingertips running over the face of his helmet. “I lost my father when I was only 10 years old. No one took me into their hut and made sure I ate and stayed clean. I am certain that the Jedi—<em>if he is who was described to me</em>—will make sure that your little boy will be looked after. But you, Mandalorian. You also need care.”</p><p>Silence reigned, and Boba was certain he was about to be told to leave so that the Mandalorian could get out of his armor in private as he was supposed to in the first place.</p><p>Then in a soft voice, he said, “I can’t <em>karking</em> stop crying, Fett.”</p><p>Boba took a step closer.</p><p>“I’ll be fine for a minute, then I’ll think about <em>everything</em> and it’s like…” He shook his head, then in a sudden move that Boba didn’t expect, he practically ripped his helmet off his head. His face was raw and red, dampened from crying and breathing behind the metal and transparisteel. Looking away was likely the <em>right </em>thing to do, but Boba didn’t think it was what the man in front of him actually wanted. Regardless, Boba was not going to react to the matter.</p><p>Instead he held out his hand, which the Mandalorian took. He hoisted him off the floor with a soft grunt, and ushered him towards the door of the private bunk. Boba called it his, but there was nothing specific that made it <em>his</em>. It was just the one that he slept in even when there wasn’t someone else on board. The settings on the bed were for his preferences.</p><p>“Put your helmet on that shelf,” Boba said, pointing to the small rack beside the head of the bed. It was the ideal size for a helmet, really. Even if they hit some sort of trouble and the ship got shaken up, it would be easy to grab. After it was put away, Boba looked up into the dark eyes of the man and said, “There’s plenty of space to store everything. Just get comfortable.”</p><p>Boba left him standing there to go to the fresher to grab a couple wipes so the Mandalorian could clean his face. The several days of beard growth was tangled and sticking out. He needed to get in the damned fresher himself, but Boba wasn’t going to drag him in there personally. Though, since the dispenser was <em>right there</em>, it only made sense to get the man a cup of water. And a refill when it was empty.</p><p>“It’s going to be several days before we get to Dantooine,” Boba said as he filled the cup a third time. He took it but didn’t drink it as feverishly as he did the first two. “If you don’t want to do anything but sleep, then sleep. I will make sure to bring you food and drink. I have plenty of spotchka if you need something stronger than water to follow your Mandalorian traditions. And if you want another—well, if you want company, I will shout at the stars with you. I’m sure I have things to yell about.”</p><p>Din’s eyes glazed with tears again, and he nodded. Boba returned the gesture, and said, “I’m going to give you some privacy, I’ll be up—"</p><p>“Wait,” his soft voice said.</p><p>Boba stopped talking and looked at him, at the distress on his face. <em>This man will be shit at cards unless he puts that helmet back on</em>.</p><p>“Just,” he sighed heavily. “Just stay. Talk to me so I… so I don’t think too much.”</p><p>“I feel that is an insult to my intellectualism,” Boba said with mock hurt. It achieved the right effect. That expression of distress transformed momentarily to one of confused amusement before settling on something closer to discomfort to the point of pain—which to Boba was an improvement. “But I would much prefer to lay down to tell them. I am getting too old to sit at the helm for hours and it not hurt.”</p><p>“You are not old,” he said as he carefully placed his helmet inside the small storage shelf in the bunk. Then he started removing his armor, and Boba was fascinated by it. It truly was artisanal quality work unlike any beskar armor he’d seen in his life. The few other Mandalorians he knew all wore alloys, but this was pure. Each piece was made specifically for the man wearing it—a man too humble and earnest for his damned good. Even if he wouldn’t say it himself, Boba knew it was armor fit for the king of Mandalorians.</p><p>“How old do you think I am?” Boba asked as he walked to the back bunks, taking the one that would put his head facing towards the head of his usual bunk. He adjusted the temperature controls on the mattress. He found he preferred warmer temperatures after years on Tatooine, though he didn’t care for the dry climate.</p><p>Seeming deep in thought, Din shrugged out of his right pauldron. “Not much older than me. Perhaps the same age. I don’t know my birthdate. I only know that I was ten when my home was destroyed by Separatist battle droids.”</p><p>“I was very young during the fall of the Republic, too,” Boba said. “My birth is somewhat well documented, though. I was born on Kamino in the year 3245.”</p><p>“My family died on Aq Vetina,” Din said softly. Boba could hear his huff of breath and the hush of the mattress as he sat. “The Mandalorians—they fought off the Separatists. I was saved by them. I don’t know the year, but my name was entered in the records in 3256.”</p><p>“Then we must be close in age,” Boba said with amusement. “Hard to tell under all the armor.”</p><p>“You’ve seen my face,” he said, his voice strained as left pauldron was removed. “I have broken my Creed. I am…” He sighed and Boba could almost feel the anguish radiating from him. “I am no longer part of their ranks. Even if I could find them, I would be… I…”</p><p>Boba reached above his head and rapped a thick knuckle against the wall to get his attention. “For your child, your foundling. You did what you had to do, as any father should.” <em>Dammit, are my eyes watering?</em> Boba cleared his throat. “If your people shun you, I know a place you will be welcome.”</p><p>“These years have changed me, Fett,” Din said as he continued removing his armor. “I’m not sure I’m ready to join your crew.”</p><p>Boba laughed. “I never said I was the place.”</p><p>Din looked around the corner at him, almost hurt.</p><p>“I joke, <em>burc'ya</em>,” Boba said with a smirk. <em>There I go calling him a friend again.</em> Then he said, “But it would be quite impressive to have the king of Mandalorians as my right hand. It’s going to quadruple my rates.”</p><p>“I’m going to sleep now,” Din said with a voice that dripped with disdain at the thought of the Darksaber. Yet, he did not move. Instead, he leaned his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes.</p><p>Boba could tell that this was a man who dreaded sleep. He sighed and said, “Go. Lay down. I’ll sit beside you and tell you stories.”</p><p>“You were supposed to do that laying down,” Din said without opening his eyes or moving from his spot against the wall.</p><p>“Yes, I know.” Boba stood and gave Din a small push towards the bunk. “But you are a stubborn dewback avoiding the pen. You haven’t even taken your boots off.”</p><p>Din sat down and removed his boots while Boba leaned against the opposite wall. Once finished, he lay back against the pillow with a bone deep sound of resignation. He lay like a man who expected to be inspected. He said, “I haven’t removed my armor to sleep in weeks.”</p><p>“That’s how you get blood clots,” Boba chided as he sat down beside him and dimmed the lights down to 10%. “I know medicine is top notch these days, but no need to inject more bacta than necessary.”</p><p>“You’re supposed to tell me something that will help me sleep,” Din almost growled.</p><p>Boba shook his head and stretched out his legs. “I could tell you about—”</p><p>“The Jedi,” Din said in a rough whisper. “I know <em>nothing</em> about them. Or the Force or… or… I don’t. It’s this whole <em>world</em> I’ve never encountered. I’ve met two <em>karking</em> Jedi, and I know how they fight is beyond amazing, and Grogu is going to be one of them. But I don’t understand it. Do you know anything about Jedi?”</p><p>Boba wanted to laugh at the irony. To say his personal history with the Jedi Order was extensive was an understatement, and there wasn’t a moment of it that was <em>good</em> in his opinion. To him, they were a bunch of puppets for politicians with fancy swords who murdered his father. Yeah, they were damn good warriors, but it didn’t change the fact that they followed a foolish code and could be just as merciless as the Sith—even if he was the only one who saw them that way. And he knew Vader. What an asshole.</p><p>Still, he said, “I have <em>known</em> Jedi. I have seen what they can do, even when young and with little training. When I was young, there were many of them on the Core Worlds, but I’ve not seen many other than the one who helped throw me in the sarlacc pit.”</p><p>“You cannot be serious,” Din said looking at him with a scowl.</p><p>“It’s true.” Boba laughed. “His name was Luke Skywalker. Little prick was a bounty of mine a few years before—wanted by none other than Darth Vader. He was lucky that day, but I heard he defeated Vader in hand to hand combat. That, regardless, is impressive.”</p><p>Din lay back down. “Who is Darth Vader?”</p><p>Boba squinted at him. “Now <em>you</em> can’t be serious.”</p><p>“I’ve never heard the name,” Din said with a shrug. “I spent my life in the Outer Rim, since I came of age in the Fighting Core. If he was a warrior, he wasn’t the kind I was likely to face.”</p><p>“No, he wasn’t,” Boba said. “No, he was a different kind of Jedi called a Sith. Still used the laser sword, though. Second in command to the Emperor. His face was on a lot of propaganda for a time.” Boba crossed his arms and slouched back. “I did a few jobs for him during the Galactic Civil War. He paid a premium and usually only required no disintegrations.”</p><p>“He was Imperial,” Din said.</p><p>“Yes, he was,” Boba said on a sigh. “For me, the Empire was just as shitty as the Republic. You know about the Separatists, but do you know about the Grand Army of the Republic? Three million clones that were created specifically to fight their war. Three million clones who look exactly like <em>me</em>. Meat for the grinder, sent to fight those droids, and all of them had my face.”</p><p>Din again looked at him. “Is that what Bo-katan meant when—”</p><p>“Yes.” Boba couldn’t help the smile. “My father was the donor. I was his…” He shrugged. “I was <em>his. </em>I didn’t age like the others. I was as his son. A copy, but set apart. Born on Kamino and raised by my father as he would have raised any child. In doing so, he trained me as his father trained him. And every day, I saw thousands of faces that were what mine would be one day.” He laughed to himself and said, “Though, I doubt any of them ended up this pretty.”</p><p>“Is vanity a side effect of showing your face?” Din asked with a flickering smile.</p><p>Boba chuckled. “In truth, before I lost my armor in a sarlacc pit, I never took off my helmet for anything in front of others simply because I—” <em>Am I actually saying this to someone? Karking hell, why not. </em>“—I didn’t want people to know I was a clone. When I was young, it was very dangerous to have my face, and my armor was safety from many things, not just blaster bolts.” He laughed as he closed his eyes, thinking back. “The first time I walked into Mos Eisley after the sarlacc pit, though with my face like this, I was honestly scared. I imagined it would be like it used to be just after the Clone Wars. But it wasn’t because no one recognized me. The Tuskans have no need of mirrors, so I had no idea how bad the scarring was, and by the time I found a mirror, I <em>laughed</em>. I laughed so damned hard it made my <em>karking</em> face hurt.”</p><p>A hand patted his knee and stayed there and Boba’s eyes opened to see Din with his eyes closed. His thumb rubbed a slow circle before he said in a tired voice, “You have the face of a warrior who has been through many battles. Your strength—” His thumb moved again and he gave a soft squeeze. “I appreciate that you are sharing it with me now.”</p><p>Boba wasn’t sure what to say, so he put his hand over Din’s and gave what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze, and said, “Sleep, <em>burc'ya</em>.” <em>Friend. </em></p><p>Din drifted off into the void as if by command.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. History and All That Entails</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey! So I didn't know that this pairing had fans? And this is my first fic. And I'm scared because I really don't want to disappoint anyone. Thanks for all the kudos and bookmarks. Did I mention I'm scared and don't want to let anyone down? Because that's a thing. I really don't want to let anyone down because I love these characters and I am happy others love them too. </p><p>Also, I'm posting early because I literally posted the "timeline" so that I wouldn't put pressure on myself when editing this story. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Boba woke to the realization he was still laying beside Din in his bunk. He wasn’t sure when he’d dropped into sleep, but a glance at the chrono showed three hours had passed. It was only when a whimper escaped Din again that Boba realized what woke him up in the first place. <em>Must be dreaming. Not a good dream.</em></p><p>Nightmares were a curse that came and went throughout Boba’s life, and lately there were times he would wake up and pace the ship and check every nook and cranny, run every diagnostic, do everything he could to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating back inside the sarlacc again. Having Fennec around helped. Having someone to answer him when he spoke and remind him he was <em>real</em>. No matter how many people told him, no matter how much evidence he saw, it didn’t change the fact that a year inside the sarlacc had felt like an eternity of lifetimes.</p><p>Din seemed to be struggling with his dream, and Boba again felt the need to soothe him. <em>Because that is what I should do. Right? He gets quiet, I get more sleep</em>, Boba told himself as his hand came up to brush fingers through the Mandalorian’s somewhat grimy hair. <em>By all the gods, when you wake up you are going into the fresher.</em></p><p>The Mandalorian seemed to relax a little, but then his arms and legs twitched and he again whimpered. A moment later, both arms jabbed out, striking Boba clumsily in the shoulder. A knee soon struck his thigh—again with little force, but enough to try the bounty hunter’s patience. Din’s breathing picked up, coming sharp and quick through his nostrils. Then he reached out and grabbed Boba’s arm with a vice-like grip—but only for a moment. Whatever battle he was fighting was not a short one, and the bounty hunter decided to intervene before he ended up with bruises. While he knew it was likely a good idea to just get up and move himself to the other cot, he didn’t want Din to hurt himself either.</p><p>And he knew what it was like to wake alone and scared from nightmares.</p><p>Boba sighed and rolled towards Din, slinging a leg over the other man to pin him in place as his arm pulled him against his chest keeping the Mandalorian’s arms from swinging again. A sound of frustration came from the him as he tightened his hold, and Din wiggled a little against the light restraint. For a moment, Boba worried he might cause him to wake in a panic.</p><p>In a soft, soothing tone, Boba said, “You’re having a nightmare, <em>burc’ya.</em> I am not going to harm you but I will not be beaten in my own bed. That is why I am holding you like this, so don’t be afraid. I will release you as soon as I know you are not going to try to attack me. But I think you are going to go back to sleep because you are very tired. You look so very tired, <em>burc’ya</em>. So listen to my voice and find a better place for your thoughts.”</p><p>Din started to relax, and Boba’s muscles relaxed at the same rate. He was tired, too. Being the only one on board while everyone else was off fighting the Imps was taxing in its own way. It made him realize that he could feel lonely in a more substantial way than just a passive sense he did at times during long trips or long hunts when there was no one to talk to for sometimes weeks or months on end. That was even before the sarlacc taught him a new definition of loneliness. The pain and suffering came pretty damned fast and was refreshed on a regular basis. Now, there was no pain that Boba could experience that would ever compare. He could have an arm ripped off by a wookie and he’d likely think, <em>at least it’s not gods-damned sarlacc venom.</em></p><p>“You’re not going to rip my arms off at least,” Boba said in the same soft, soothing voice as he moved to get a little more comfortable. Then he chuckled soft and sleepy to himself for saying it out loud. Din moved too, and in the end Boba decided it was a better spot for everyone, because his arm against the mattress was now beneath Din’s neck and the Mandalorian’s head was tilted down and Boba’s head was tilted up so that his chin rested on the other man’s forehead. His fingers were still nestled in his hair. Din’s free arm was now around Boba’s waist. Boba said, “When we wake up in three standard hours, remember Mandalorian that you are the one who asked me to stay here.”</p><p>At some point, he did go to sleep because the tone of his alarm woke him out of a dream about a desert made of glass. He dreamed about it a few times before but could never figure out why it was so familiar. He never fully fell asleep, either, making the dream a little harder to grasp. But then again, he was a little too preoccupied with the person who was now looking him in the eyes.</p><p>“Did you sleep well?” Boba asked, knowing full well the answers, considering he’d been there the entire sleep cycle.</p><p>Which only made Boba feel a little sad when Din answered in a rough voice, “Better.” He squinted, seeming to just take in their closeness and the way that he had his arm around Boba and the position of Boba’s leg. Then he said, “I remember last night. You…subdued me.”</p><p><em>This should not be awkward and I will not let it be. </em>Boba was comfortable where he lay and made no motion to move from his spot. Din hadn’t moved his arm or tried to stop his renewed petting. “Sorry about that.”</p><p>Din swallowed hard and said, “I feel like I owe you an apology.”</p><p>“You don’t,” Boba said with a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t care what it’s about, either. There’s nothing I haven’t done willingly or gotten something out of since our first meeting.”</p><p>“What do you get out of this?” Din asked with a hint of scowl settling on his brow.</p><p><em>Dammit. Choose your words, Boba.</em> He considered for a moment making a joke about it all. <em>I miss my bed and will put up with you to have it back. I’m trying to get close to the new king. </em>He said, “I meant what I said.”</p><p>Din looked down and sighed. “You’ve said <em>a lot</em>.”</p><p>“I’m going to ignore the insult,” Boba said as his fidgety hand lightly tugged Din’s hair, making the Mandalorian huff a small laugh. “I said I would keep you together.”</p><p>“That doesn’t explain what you get out of this,” Din said.</p><p>Maybe it was his own brain lag from sleep, but Boba answered, “Maybe we both need this.”</p><p>“Oh.” Din’s head snuzzled down into the pillow as if that was answer enough and he planned to go back asleep. Boba was certain he was asleep until he stopped petting him and he grumbled, “Felt good.”</p><p>“I need to wash my hand because you need a fresher,” Boba said with a breathy chuckle and Din frowned.</p><p>“I…” Din sighed and looked down. “I have nothing to wear but what is on my back.”</p><p>“Don’t let that stop you. I have plenty of extras on board you can wear until yours can be cleaned and repaired,” Boba said as he poked a finger through a hole in the shoulder of Din’s flight suit. “I have plenty of equipment in my workroom for that. I doubt your beskar needs more than a little cleaning.”</p><p>“My helmet,” Din said, his voice taking on that flattened quality. “Some of the internal mechanisms are malfunctioning after—” his voice cracked. Boba pressed the tips of his fingers into the base of his skull in a gentle circle. Din sighed and said, “I was hit a few times in the head. It needs fixed, and I don’t have any of the tools.”</p><p>“Anything you need,” Boba said giving his hair a tug that managed to get the haunted look to go away, replaced by the Mandalorian’s neutral scowl. “I think you’ll find everything at the workbench. I’m not sure what kind of systems you use—”</p><p>“It’s a Taung Integrated Type 11,” Din answered.</p><p>“What kind of range finder do you have?” Boba asked, genuinely curious.</p><p>Din shrugged. “Uses sensors in the suit to triangulate targets. A little different than the type you use.”</p><p>“Thermal imaging?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Computer interface?”</p><p>“Optically operated.”</p><p>“Three-sixty viewscreen?”</p><p>“Absolutely.”</p><p>Boba smirked and said, “Your armor is truly beautiful.”</p><p>Din inhaled sharply. Then he cleared his throat and said, “It serves its purpose.”</p><p>“I have no doubt,” Boba said with a nod of pure admiration at the thought of the man in his armor. Upon seeing him the first time on Tython, he looked like something out of a book about Mandalorians. So <em>Mandalorian</em> he didn’t seem real. Talking to him had the same feeling. All the others Boba met had banged up, lived in armor. But not Din Djarin. This man wore a suit of pure beskar but flew around in a derelict ship with no <em>karking</em> clue why it was so unique.</p><p><em>You certainly leave an impression</em>. The Mandalorian was easy to track because those who saw him—not the ones who he spoke to, but just those who happened to catch a glimpse of his imposing presence—were quick to comment on it just in passing. His arrival in Mos Eisley was news before Boba had any idea that he was about to be the man he would track.</p><p>Everyone made him sound larger than life. Even Fennec was impressed by him from her encounter with him—though she listed him on the dim-witted side. Din seemed like many Boba met in the Outer Rim—nobody gave a damn about the Outer Rim, and they didn’t give a damn about the rest of the galaxy.</p><p>Then in a rumbling soft tone that made Boba’s spine tingle and goosebumps break out across his skin, Din said, “Thank you for your kindness.”</p><p>Something that few knew about Boba Fett is he was a well-educated man, and not just in the art of combat and killing things. Not in the sense that he went to a university, either. Rather, he studied every subject possible and read constantly between missions. It was part of the Way he was taught. Knowledge was one third of his directive. Finding knowledge was equal to Money and Power. So he read, he researched, he learned from everyone and every thing he could. Therefore, Boba understood the mechanics behind how sound frequencies could cause his entire body to break out in gooseflesh and send a chill down to his toes.</p><p>That knowledge didn’t stop Boba’s face from heating up. He corrected, “It’s <em>not</em> kindness. It is just doing what anyone would do.”</p><p>“Dune wouldn’t be caught dead like this,” Din said with a hint of actual humor in his voice.</p><p>“That’s—” He sighed. “That’s fair.”</p><p>Dune was like many other Alderani remnants he’d encountered. Despite how she and her companions were directly involved in his unceremonious dive into the sarlacc, Boba was impressed by Leia Organa, with the way she held her head high no matter what Jabba threw at her. She’d watched her planet be destroyed; there was nothing that <em>karking</em> worm could do to frighten her and it drove that bastard <em>mad</em>. Dune had that same impassiveness.</p><p>He also realized he hadn’t really addressed why he continued to lay there, stroking Din’s hair. Boba didn’t have much of an answer for that. So he didn’t bother to address the implication of being “caught dead”—<em>and who gives a damn if they were?</em> No, there was a deeper issue here and he wasn’t going to ignore it. “Are you uncomfortable like this?”</p><p>He looked up at Boba, meeting his eyes. Boba knew the answer. The man couldn’t hide his thoughts to save his life without that damned helmet. Din said, “If I was uncomfortable with how we were laying, I would move myself or remove you.”</p><p>The matter-of-factness, the confidence in the way he said it made Boba smirk. “I have no doubt.”</p><p>Din nodded as if he had decided something, his brow relaxing as he again sank into the pillow.</p><p>“I need to go do maintenance checks and relieve Fennec,” Boba said as he wiggled the hand attached to the arm beneath Din’s neck. The Mandalorian lifted his head enough to allow Boba to extract his arm and the rest of himself from the places they managed to become entwined. Din immediately lay back down and curled up on himself; Boba also noticed a certain level of chill in the air.</p><p>He walked to the lockers to find fresh clothes and an extra set which he placed on the bed for Din—who was again back asleep. Boba had no intention of disturbing him. He shut the door and after again donning his armor, headed up the ladder to the galley to grab more ration packs where he found Dune laying on the floor with her head propped up on her bag.</p><p>“Fett,” she groaned.</p><p>“I have bunks—four, in fact,” Boba said as he opened the cabinet to dig out a cup for caf.</p><p>Her face scrunched. “I didn’t realize I went to sleep.”</p><p>“There’s a plague of that on this ship,” Boba said as he stirred his caf and looked down at her with a bland expression. He knew exactly what kind of an asshole he sounded like.</p><p>Dune glared up at him. “I looked you up. You have quite the history, Fett.”</p><p>“Do you have a particular concern, Marshal?” Boba asked.</p><p>“You worked for Vader.” She said it like an accusation.</p><p>Boba figured it likely <em>was</em> an accusation coming from an Alliance shock trooper. He smirked. “I’ve worked for a lot of people.”</p><p>Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t get it, though. Why would you work for Vader? You don’t seem the type.”</p><p>“Meaning?” he asked.</p><p>“You refused any cut of the reward for Gideon,” Dune said.</p><p>Boba nodded. “I wasn’t the one who fought him or his people.”</p><p>“You gained absolutely nothing by helping Mando,” Dune said. “But you worked for Vader.”</p><p>Boba stared at her. “I still don’t see your point.”</p><p>She looked furious. “Fennec told me what you did for her and what you plan to do on Tatooine.”</p><p>He crossed his arms. “You don’t approve?”</p><p>“Taking over the Hutt Syndicate?” she said with a disbelieving laugh. “I mean, good luck to you both on that, but I’ve dealt with enough in the Outer Rim to know it’s not going to be as easy as taking over Jabba’s Palace.”</p><p>“It won’t be,” Boba said with a shrug. There were other plans in motion. Other favors being called in. They weren’t stopping by Dantooine because of its scenery. His knowledge of the syndicate was extensive, having studied its intricacies from the inside for most of his life. He knew exactly where to strike first. He was just sad he wasn’t the one to kill Jabba. <em>Definitely need to send a note to Organa. Probably use an alias. Maybe rope the Mandalorian into it. Head of state to head of state. Din would throat-punch me for saying that. </em></p><p>“If you pull off what you’re planning, you’d likely get New Republic support,” Dune said as she stood. “They have the goal of stomping out the slave trade, too.”</p><p>He fought the urge to laugh. “No. The New Republic will not give a shit anymore than the Old Republic did about the syndicates or the slave trade or the flow of spice unless the leadership chooses to make it their concern. The Empire originally swore they were going to end the slave trade in the Outer Rim, but it never happened. They were too wrapped up in forcing control over the Core. The New Republic is still fighting for control over systems loyal to a dead empire. The Senate is attacking their own left and right. I won’t attempt an alliance with something that is going to collapse in ten years.”</p><p>“Pretty cynical,” she said, crossing her arms. He was certain she had snapped a few necks in her time. If she wanted a fight, it would not be an easy one. “And pretty sure of yourself.”</p><p>Boba said, “Aren’t you?”</p><p>Dune nodded. “Fair. I guess I’m going to go find a cot.”</p><p>“Here.” Boba tossed her a red ration pack. “Give that to the Mandalorian.”</p><p>She looked at it then at him and smirked, then headed to the ladder. He didn’t like the knowing look she had, as if she was in on some secret. Whatever it meant, he was certain Fennec would share.</p><p>Up in the cockpit, Boba took a moment to appreciate the feeling of falling forever into the swirling void of hyperspace before saying, “Fennec.”</p><p>Fennec stood and stretched. “You talked to Dune”</p><p>He took the pilot’s seat. “You discussed our plans with her.”</p><p>Fennec leaned against the wall with her ankles crossed. “Having a New Republic Marshal on our side can’t be a bad thing, right? And I can tell you and Mando are getting comfo—”</p><p>“You could be right about a marshal,” Boba said. “But leave the Mandalorian out of this.”</p><p>“<em>Leave the Mandalorian out of this,</em>” she said, mimicking his accent. She dropped down in the copilot’s chair. “You’ve always had a knack with finding the right allies, Fett. What’s so different about this one?”</p><p>Boba gave her the same kind of look he gave most people who were dangerously close to the end of his patience on a subject.</p><p>She raised her hands. “Just might be something to think about.”</p><p>“No,” Boba said with a coldness he seldom used with her. “The Mandalorians are not part of the plan and never have been. I could have Fenn Shysa and his New Protectors if I truly wanted their involvement, but I don’t.” He paused a moment, wondering if maybe Din would benefit from meeting some Mandos that weren’t like Bo-Katan and her ilk. He brushed that aside, and said, “If by the time we get to Tatooine, he wishes to come with us, that’s his business. But I’ll not influence him on the matter.”</p><p>“So you <em>have</em> thought about it,” Fennec said in that knowing way that sometimes made him want to throw something at her forehead.</p><p><em>Of course</em> Boba had considered how beneficial it would be to have someone with a claim that could unite the Mandalorian clans. He’d met enough Mandalorians to know how superstitious they were about that <em>karking</em> Darksaber. He also didn’t like Bo-Katan. He didn’t like her even before she insulted him. Boba Fett, by virtue of being one of the top paid bounty hunters in the galaxy, typically was known as being top tier scum by anyone who wasn’t hiring him—but <em>especially</em> by those who <em>were</em> hiring him. He was used to insults. He earned that reputation. But to be insulted based on the circumstances of his birth… He <em>didn’t</em> like Bo-Katan.</p><p>If there was going to be royalty for Mandalorians, he’d rather it be the guy sleeping in his bed.</p><p>“You actually like him,” Fennec said.</p><p>Boba looked up at her with a glare that would make most people shudder. “I respect him.”</p><p>Fennec was unmoved. “It is the same to you.”</p><p>“Which is why I will not influence him,” Boba said simply. He could feel her studying him, and he knew that this was a place where they disagreed. What bothered him was that he knew Jango Fett would disagree with him, too.</p><p>Fennec gave him an odd look then left the cockpit to do her usual routine before a sleep cycle. He connected his holopad to the console and started running through the latest news from Coruscant. There was nothing of real interest happening other than the upcoming ten-year Remembrance Day for Alderaan. He made a mental note to buy Dune some good booze for the occasion, but maybe not mention why.</p><p>Days in space pass in metered cycles, and by the time they reached Dantooine, a routine had developed. Watch the helm a few hours. Din would usually join at some point—always with his helmet on. Boba would often lead the conversation, sticking to topics that were neutral. Music ended up being an area of great interest since both had spent time on Tatooine. Despite its remote location, being a hub of the Hutt Syndicate made it a place that many bands tended to travel through, at least when Jabba was still alive. Their mutual love of Gamorrean growlcore was unexpected.</p><p>Sometimes they worked together doing repairs. Boba enjoyed helping with the armor repairs with Din, mainly because he got a closer look at all the intricate parts. The craftsmanship was so incredibly detailed—he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. Despite all the many blows he’d taken during the fight aboard Gideon’s vessel, there wasn’t a scratch or nick to be found on the surface. The majority of damage was superficial—discoloration from blaster fire and being heated by strikes from the Darksaber.</p><p>That Din tossed him the Darksaber like it was just another blaster only further convinced Boba that Din was the ideal person to lead the Mandalorians.</p><p>The sleep cycle after examining the ancient blade of Mandalorian kings, Boba and Din were indulging in what had wordlessly become their sleeping arrangement after that first time. They lay side by side, not pressed together, but with their limbs touching. Din was starting to get more color in his face. Or perhaps the <em>right</em> colors. The dark circles from lack of sleep were fading and the raw skin from tears was starting to heal.</p><p>“I am no king,” Din said after they both had found their comfortable places and the lights had dimmed down to 10%.</p><p>Boba pushed his fingers into the hair at the nape of Din’s neck, gently stroking the spot that seemed to always make the Mandalorian relax a little more. “For Mandalorians, to be king—to be <em>Mand’alor</em>—you must be someone that the clans can look up to. You would fit the ideal for most.”</p><p>Din pressed back against Boba’s hand, making the bounty hunter smirk. He said, “I’ve heard stories of the ancient leaders. I don’t see myself in them.”</p><p>“Those stories are about beings from thousands of years ago,” Boba said. “Have you heard of Jaster Mereel?”</p><p>“I guess not,” Din answered.</p><p>“Do they not teach you history in a covert?” Boba asked with a smirk.</p><p>He didn’t need light to feel the glare. Din said, “I want to know what you know, Fett.”</p><p>Boba scratched at Din’s scalp. His hair was soft when it wasn’t under layers and layers of helmet sweat, and he tended to hum when Boba’s fingers applied just the right amount of pressure. “Jaster served as <em>Mand’alor</em> for a time during the Mandalorian Civil War, before the time of the Occupation. He wanted Mandalorians to live by a code that would bring us—them more respect. And it caused friction. During the war, he ended up hiding out on a farm on the moon of Concordia, and that’s how my father became his foundling.”</p><p>Din rose on his elbow. “What.”</p><p>“My father, Jango Fett, inherited the title from Jaster when he was killed,” Boba continued. He’d heard the story himself from one of Jaster’s and Jango’s friends who at one point wanted to make him take his father’s place—no fancy knife involved. “My armor—or at least a few pieces of it—once belonged to Jaster. The jetpack I use was his. I’ve rebuilt it, but the original flamethrower unit was his as well.”</p><p>Din’s brow furrowed together. “But Bo-Katan—”</p><p>“It was a civil war,” Boba said with a shrug. “I am banished from ever returning to Mandalore, unless things have changed since I’ve been <em>dead</em>.”</p><p>Din’s expression took on a confused quality.</p><p>“You’ve never heard any of these stories before, have you?” Boba said.</p><p>“No,” Din answered. “I feel like I know nothing about my own people. I have lived by the Creed since I came of age, but I’m not even sure I know what I have dedicated myself to. The more Mandalorians I meet, the more I am certain that I have not been told everything.”</p><p>“A lesson I was taught very young, <em>Din’ika</em>,” Boba said, and smirked at the look Din gave him at the nickname, “is that no one will tell you anything if it suits them for you to be ignorant of it.”</p><p>The Mandalorian tensed.</p><p>“I do not mean that they intentionally lied to you or did it to be malicious,” Boba added. He reached up to grip the place where Din’s shoulder met his neck. Very tense, very solid muscle there, Boba noted. “I only mean that your people, for whatever reason, may not believe that part of Mandalorian history is important. I know other Mandos who would gladly share all their war stories with you, should you ever desire to meet them—though I’d likely not join you.”</p><p>“Why is that?” Din asked as he finally lay back down.</p><p>Boba laughed. “Because one of them considers me the rightful <em>Mand’alor</em> and I know there’s a better man for the job.”</p><p>The exasperated look from Din was the end of that conversation. He always looked like there was something more he wanted to say. Boba thought about asking him to speak his mind, but decided against it.  </p><p>Then a subspace transmission came in from Bo-Katan challenging Din Djarin to a duel for the Darksaber. Her holomessage held all the barely contained rage of their last interaction, as she detailed the time and place and wished him health until their meeting and an almost sarcastic farewell of, “This is the Way.”</p><p>Din did not make a reply and he did not speak to anyone—not even Boba—until they arrived on Dantooine a standard day later. Boba expected there to be a change in sleeping arrangements, with the likelihood of one of them going to one of the other cots. Instead, Din led him into the bunk after he’d removed his armor and once he was settled into place, pulled Boba into the bed. He didn’t just pull him into bed, but pulled him <em>close</em>. Close enough that Boba couldn’t breathe without smelling the slightly citrus scent of the cleansing solution in Din’s hair and the lingering scent of beskar metal and padding that can’t be washed off after so many years of wearing a helmet every day. Boba decided that he had enjoyed the previous sleep cycles more, but the closeness had its merits.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Dantooine spaceport shenanigans and Boba gets an itch.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Traditions and Customs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Y'all are cool. I like you. I'm glad you like the story because I'm just writing things and posting it and hoping for the best. Y'all are great. </p><p>Fair warning, I'm the ONLY ONE who has read this chapter..... soooooo..... I'm sorry for the errors that are likely present but I'm the most impatient creature in the galaxy. It's also super long. It was going to be longer but I split it up. Again. </p><p>Anyway. This chapter I'm adding a little TRIGGER WARNING for alcohol consumption. Maybe for a little cannon typical violence, too. Gonna go tag that as a thing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing Din says after a day of silence is, “How many kids did you say were on the farm?”</p><p>Boba had not paid attention to the neighboring conversation as he ordered pterathki, basted in Dantooine nectar. It was a favorite food for him, and he figured since he and Din were stuck in the boonies while Fennec and Dune were off taking care of business, they might as well get some decent food. But at the sound of the Mandalorian’s voice with that sizzling <em>anger</em> in every syllable—Boba cancelled his order and tuned into the conversation.</p><p>A nearby farm had been overtaken by a group of mercenaries. Many workers escaped, but at least five were left behind and potentially a few of their children. The mercs claimed they were there to collect a debt, but both Boba and Din instantly thought that sounded like complete shit. At least four were dead already. Best estimate was twenty mercs.</p><p>“<em>I see twenty-three with the company emblem on their jackets,” </em>Boba said through the private comm in their helmets. They were positioned on a hill overlooking the farm. Though, to Boba’s eyes, it didn’t look like much of a farm.</p><p>Din frowned. “<em>Something isn’t right here.”</em></p><p><em>“They’re making specialized spice products,”</em> Boba said as he pointed out a symbol on one of the out buildings, showing it to be a lab. “<em>I have the feeling the farmer probably did owe money.”</em></p><p><em>“Doesn’t mean these people needed to die,”</em> Din almost growled back.</p><p>Boba nodded. The people’s hero in action, Boba enjoyed it. “<em>Likely need to find out who the money was owed to. Otherwise, they’ll just send more mercs.”</em></p><p><em>“So don’t disintegrate everyone; got it,” </em>Din said, and Boba smiled to himself knowing that he was the one who usually needed that reminder.</p><p>It was no surprise that everything went off without a hitch. No casualties—other than the mercenaries of course. But then again, that’s what happens when you invade a damned farmstead. Boba had no problem enjoying himself when snuffing out the lifeforce of some people, just as he knew there were those who would probably celebrate his death—and likely <em>had</em>.</p><p>Then he had the added bonus of watching the Mandalorian work, and that was pleasure in its own right.</p><p>“<em>Among Mandalorians it is considered the height of a warrior’s skill to kill barehanded</em>,” Boba said as Din tossed aside the Rodian mercenary who gave them all the information concerning the merc’s employer in Dantoon City. It shouldn’t be so impressive. Boba was not typically the type to be in the middle of a fight admiring someone else’s finesse, but here he was.</p><p>The Mandalorian growled into their private comm between their helmets. “<em>I have heard </em><strong>some</strong><em> stories.</em>”</p><p><em>“I think that’s twenty-two</em>,” Boba said as he hopped down from his spot beside the swoop bike.</p><p>“<em>There’s one more around here</em>,” Din said as he checked his blaster charge. “<em>So much for keeping a low profile</em>.<em>”</em></p><p>Boba laughed as he fell into step beside the Mandalorian. Dune told Boba to keep out of trouble and Boba did <em>nothing</em> other than go out to find food. Good food. Now his back burned from a blaster bolt that deflected wrong and gave him a shock. He got the little prick. Didn’t change the itch it caused. “<em>You couldn’t keep a low profile if you wanted to</em>.”</p><p>Footsteps behind, and Boba spun around with his blaster in hand. Aim. Fire. Another dead merc. “<em>Twenty-three.”</em></p><p>Din nodded his satisfaction. The Mudhorn sigil fit him, because that’s how he acted—run straight in, and damn the consequences. If not for seeing him fight before, he would have thought the man suicidal. But no, that’s just the way he did it. Brutal, merciless, and final. And the blood splatter did nothing to damage the look of the beskar. It was borderline erotic.</p><p><em>Now there’s something to never examine very close</em>. Boba gave his head a quick shake to expel the thought and walked with Din through the farmstead, examining each building for any hint of the farmers or more of the mercs. They moved in perfect tandem, and Boba never felt the need to double check what the Mandalorian declared to be clear. That was a nice feeling.</p><p>They were in the third building, a storage for large machinery and water treatment when Din said, “Over here.”</p><p>Boba joined him by a stack of crates behind which he could see the image of a door on his scanner. The two of them made quick work of the blockage, and then Din made quick work of the lock mechanism.  They both worked to extract the six human workers and three children from the small room, some of whom needed immediate medical care. One of them, a young man named Sy, was a little better off than others and was quick to jump in to help clean wounds and administer bacta wraps to his fellow prisoners.</p><p>“Who paid you to come for us?” Sy asked while dressing a particularly bad leg injury that Boba could tell would result in amputation.</p><p>Boba answered, “There’s no pay.”</p><p>“But you’re Mandalorians,” Sy said with particular distaste. “I thought you didn’t do anything without pay.”</p><p>The woman whose leg Sy was wrapping hissed, “Shut your mouth and be grateful!”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Boba said as he looked towards Din, who was just finishing up his comm with the magistrate back in the village. He said to Sy, “Not all Mandalorians are guns for hire. At least, not <em>just</em> guns for hire.”</p><p>Before long, a caravan from the village arrived with the rest of the farmers and farm hands as well as the body collector. The magistrate offered them a reward for their success, and Din turned it down only to have it doubled and returned to him by the farm owner. The Mandalorian tossed Boba half the reward, and said, “<em>If you don’t take it, I’m going to throw it into the damned forest because no one will accept the damned credits</em>.”</p><p>Boba laughed and said, “<em>You seem allergic to money</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Normally everything I make is split with the covert,</em>” Din said.</p><p>“<em>I am not your covert,”</em> Boba said as they walked towards the swoop bikes. “<em>All I wanted was some damned pterathki</em>.”</p><p>Din snorted and said, “<em>I am hungry now. Hopefully there’s a cantina with your bird on the menu.”</em></p><p>“<em>There better be after this,”</em> Boba grumbled. It was kind of a pain in the ass to say the least, even if it felt like a minor inconvenience with the comfort of hindsight. They could be annoyed at the inconvenience of this bantha shit because they walked away with a few blood splatters, a couple new burns, weapons to recharge, and a few extra credits for their trouble.</p><p>The Mandalorian lead the way back to the village and Boba cruised along beside, watching he scenery pass under the night sky. Now, it seemed more important to <em>look</em> at things, and Boba found it more enjoyable to look at them with another—post battle blood splatter and all. This was his life and it was also Din’s. They were not so different for all they were nothing alike.</p><p>Once during their many strange conversations inside the confessional of Boba’s bunk, Din said that he felt <em>cursed</em> when it came to going into port during recent years. No matter where he went, no matter how small the detour, he would end up involved in a local matter of some kind. It always happened. Boba didn’t believe him.</p><p>Of <em>course</em> he’d heard the stories, but Boba had a story for almost every planet in the Outer Rim. Some of them were even entertaining with or without the disintegration. That didn’t mean that he literally fell into trouble every where he went. But it wasn’t an hour after Fennec and Dune had departed that Boba and the Mandalorian were working on the mercenary situation.</p><p>Worse was how much he enjoyed it. Kark, he’d enjoyed the man’s building legend before ever meeting him. He’d only known the man less than an hour and he <em>pledged himself</em> to the Mandalorian’s cause.</p><p>As Fennec adamantly pointed out at the time—he didn’t <em>have</em> to do that. Boba could have simply left the Mandalorian Poster Boy on Tython with no ship and no way to find his child, and gone off on his quest to conquer the galactic underworld. However, something made him <em>feel</em> the need to help this man. The feeling was so strong, that he couldn’t resist it. It was as if someone had grabbed hold of his soul and made everything he ever felt—all the anger, betrayal, sadness, fear, pain—come to the surface and know that this man in the crater where the <em>Razor Crest </em>once was had all those same exact feelings and desperately needed his help.</p><p>Looking back, it was a very strange thing to think.</p><p>Knowing the child who had been kidnapped was strongly Force sensitive, Boba considered that precious little Grogu had affected him with some kind of rudimentary mind trick that opened him to a sympathetic response to the Mandalorian. A different version of Boba Fett, one who hadn’t lived in a sarlacc for a year of eternity and contemplated his life in a Tuskan camp on the Dune Sea—that man would likely be furious about the Force having an effect on him.</p><p>In this case, that concept didn’t bother Boba as the thought came to him on that road on Dantooine. Be it chance and circumstance or the child reaching out through a mystical Force for help, Boba Fett would have helped regardless once he was aware of the situation. He was already aware of the legend that he trailed to that nowhere planet. Honestly, the Force being involved made a sick kind of sense. That he should have to accept that something that defines a group he hates may have driven him towards something he loves.</p><p>His father. Because that was the only thing he gave a damn about upon their first meeting. That armor was the only thing he had of his father, and he wanted it back.</p><p>Realistically, finding his armor on Tatooine <em>should</em> have happened without the Mandalorian ever being involved. Boba knew this. One year in the sarlacc took up a good chunk of time. A year with the Tuskans to come back to reality. But it took until a rumor spread by some wayward mining syndicate larky that <em>Boba Fett</em> was seen in Mos Pelgo.</p><p>Boba got there in time to eat some roasted kryte and hear stories of a Mandalorian who erupted from the beast’s body in a burst of lightning and flame. The Tuskan warriors he spoke to had the same opinion and were just as impressed by the tactic of being swallowed and exploding one’s way out. No matter what, Boba knew he wanted to meet this Mandalorian. Whatever purpose he had in gathering Mandalorian armor—and Boba could guess it was cultural—it gave an ideal opening to talking to this person who at every turn was spoken of as a damned superhero.</p><p>And the stories just got better. One man army, saving entire towns from the clutches of villainy with his child on his hip. It sounded like something from a poor quality holovid Boba used to watch as a kid. Nothing compared to Nevarro. Not just wildly pissing off the entire Guild but taking on the Imps—<em>twice</em>—and pulling off a situation where law and order reigned. Very impressive.</p><p>It was professional curiosity.</p><p>Then Boba met him and he was a man hyper focused on protecting a child. A force sensitive child who was—to quote Din—“<em>communing with the Force to find a Jedi or something like that</em>” at the time that Boba arrived with Fennec and ended up aiding in fighting off two transports of Stormtroopers. Luck, the blessed goddess that watches over all the wretched, is firmly on the side of the Mandalorian as much as it is on the side of Boba Fett.</p><p>From the moment the darktroopers boarded the imperial ship, Boba knew he was going to go to whatever lengths it took to help the Mandalorian complete his task. At that point—he had no <em>karking</em> idea what he was doing. He just knew two things: Din was an honorable warrior with a list of heroic deeds to his name that led to their meeting, and the Empire was directly responsible for causing him all of his current trouble.</p><p>Professional curiosity. And if the Force brought them both to this point, then so be it.</p><p>Then things started to change. The Mandalorian became Din Djarin, a man with a name. He learned hints about his past, his version of being a Mandalorian. It was different than what he’d encountered through people like Fenn Shysa, but not so remarkably different it was unrecognizable. That’s where the feeling of kinship started. Then there was his ability to be a one man wrecking crew. Morak was beautiful. Challenging, personally and emotionally scarring, but ultimately a masterpiece. Boba never saw a man so trapped in the claws of what he could not escape and still managing to fight his way free.</p><p>Boba Fett would have given <em>anything</em> to have been part of the boarding party. But the plan was the plan, and it worked.</p><p>And the Mandalorian <em>accidentally</em> got one up on Bo-Katan.</p><p>Boba may feel like a somewhat more enlightened version of himself, but he wasn’t so enlightened to not enjoy the misery that brought the little Mandalorian princess. Her brand of being Mandalorian came with requirements that went outside what it used to mean.</p><p>Boba may not live by the Creed, he still respected those who did. There were times he longed for the freedom of <em>cin vhetini—</em>to only be judged by what he does going forward with a fresh start, a clean slate. If given a fresh start, he would be the kind of person who would not need a reason to do the right thing. He would not imagine he was influenced by the Force to be emotionally moved to help Din upon seeing him with nothing on an abandoned world in desperate need to get his foundling back. He would not feel the need to cloak his feelings in logical arguments.</p><p>At the village, the cantina owner, a Selkath, welcomed them with a brightness that showed news of their work had made it around town already. Boba wasn’t sure how to feel about that. This was usually when he needed to leave town immediately.</p><p>“What’s the bird called?” Din asked Boba as he leaned against the counter.</p><p>“Nectar basted pterathki,” Boba said to the keeper.</p><p>The Selkath nodded and said in a slurping Basic, “Ah, yes! A house special. You’ll enjoy.”</p><p>“Two, to go,” Boba said.</p><p>On the private comm, Din said, “<em>Where are we going?</em>”</p><p>“<em>Somewhere private,</em>” Boba said. It really was because he had no idea just yet. He knew they couldn’t eat where people would see the Mandalorian’s face. Boba was only slightly more comfortable eating in front of others and that happened only after the sarlacc.</p><p>The Selkath said, “Are you using the room you are provided?”</p><p>“Room?” Din asked. “Who provided a room?”</p><p>“The house, sirs,” he said. “Our gratitude for helping the family.”</p><p>“Good,” Boba said. “Deliver to the room.”</p><p>Din managed to have a pointed look Boba could see even through the beskar helmet. The room was on the upper level. Very small and utilitarian, and more of a suite of two separate beds with a shared fresher and small community area. All in all, not much bigger than the sleeping quarters on <em>Slave I. </em> </p><p>It was then that Din said, “You were shot.”</p><p>“Deflected blaster bolt,” Boba said with a shrug. “It’s just a burn.”</p><p>“It needs treatment,” Din said.</p><p>“It does,” Boba said with a huff. He took of his helmet and put it on the corner of one of the beds then started removing his armor. It wasn’t until he reached back to unhook the jetpack that he winced, and Din put out a hand.</p><p>“Let me help you,” he said. He was still fully armored, but he was very careful with his movements as he took away the pieces of beskar and durasteel. He leaned down to see the hole in the armorweave, and Din said, “You’ve fixed that spot before.”</p><p>Boba nodded. “I need to replace a few things.”</p><p>“Once we’re done with the mercs, we’ll pick up some supplies,” Din said as he opened a bacta patch. “There’s decent supplies to be found in Dantoon City. Take off your shirt.”</p><p>“I tend to avoid larger metropolises for the time being,” Boba said as he took off his shirt. He winced at the pull of fibers that melted into the wound. “I’m trying to keep people from knowing I’m alive.”</p><p>“I hate blaster burns,” Din said as he applied the thin patch. “Are you that well known?”</p><p>Boba huffed a laugh and fought the urge to say, <em>at least it’s not the damned sarlacc. </em></p><p>“What?” Din asked.</p><p>“I was thinking,” Boba said with another humorless laugh. “At least it’s not the damned sarlacc.”</p><p>“You don’t really talk about it,” Din said.</p><p>Boba could feel his eyes on his back. The scars were universal, covering every part of his body. <em>Yes, there too</em>. He said, “It’s hard to put into words. Nothing is the same after and it is sometimes very karking frustrating. Toss me my belt.”</p><p>As Boba dug into his pouches, Din said, “From what I’ve been told, no one survives a sarlacc.”</p><p>“That’s the rumor,” Boba said as he withdrew a small brown glass jar. “But the truth is, Tuskans have been pulling people out of those monsters for eons. They have a method for it. I wouldn’t even be here if not for a kid falling into the Pit of Carkoon.” He opened the jar and grimaced at the smell. “But travelers like us—we think we know better than the natives. We can’t figure out how to get out of the giant monster plant, so it can’t be done.”</p><p>Din held out his hand and Boba paused, staring at him. The Mandalorian said, “That goes on your back.”</p><p>“Yes?” Boba said. Then he realized what Din was implying, and he shook his head. “I can handle it. Smells like shit in a literal sense.”</p><p>“I blew my nose on your shirt a few days ago; I can help you with this,” Din said with a hint of blush. “I’m sure you can handle it, but maybe you don’t have to for once.”</p><p>Considering that a Tuskan healer was he first to apply this substance to his naked body, Boba was not sure why the idea of Din applying this gods-awful salve was so bad. In fact, the overall concept wasn’t terrible. And maybe that was the problem. Being <em>touched</em> by Din wasn’t terrible. But this was <em>medical</em>. This was <em>necessary</em>. This was…</p><p><em>Isn’t that what I’ve been telling myself for the last standard week? </em>Boba frowned at his own inner thoughts and he opened his mouth to tell Din to piss off. That is not what came out in his harsh voice.</p><p>“Put on the medical gloves,” Boba said. He said it in the same way he has told a quarry to stop running or get shot, and he winced internally at it. “It stinks.”</p><p>Din listened. He quickly removed his armored gloves and dug out a pack of sterile medical gloves that snapped into place. Boba handed over the jar of salve and frowned because there was a itchy, fiery feeling moving across his back. His expression did not change when Din opened the jar and grimaced.</p><p>“<em>Dank farrik</em>, Fett, you weren’t lying,” Din said as he swept the pads of his gloved fingertips through the gray salve.</p><p>“You will not enjoy the scent. After it dries, I’m getting in the fresher.”</p><p>Din said, “Does the bacta not help?"</p><p>In a voice that was almost a growl, Boba said, “The bacta doesn’t treat the nerve poison.”</p><p>Din nodded then gestured with his head for Boba to turn. “How do I apply this?”</p><p>“Just work it in near the wound,” Boba said. “The skin probably looks irritated.”</p><p>For a moment, Din didn’t move and Boba looked over his shoulder to see Din had his helmet on again and was standing stock still, staring at him.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Boba asked, his agitation rising.</p><p>“Scanning for heat,” Din answered, and Boba looked away to avoid rolling his eyes. While there was likely a very logical train of thought that led the Mandalorian to do that, Boba wasn’t going to ask. Luckily, he didn’t have to. “I wondered if there would be a sign, something physical. I set the parameters to normal body heat range. There’s a few spots that seem to be elevated slightly in temperature relative to the rest, and mostly near the wound. Kind of expected, but there’s places towards your shoulders. Are you feeling any irritation here”—he touched a spot that felt a little itchy then another— “or here?”</p><p>“Yes, I am,” Boba said through clenched teeth. He felt exposed and not just because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was being <em>studied</em>. He didn’t like that feeling. “Are you going to apply that bantha shit or not?”</p><p>Without another word, Din started carefully dabbing his fingers around where the wound was located (though the bacta closed it now), and almost instantly the pain started to ebb in that region. The Mandalorian was being very gentle, though, and Boba wanted to figure out a way to say<em> harder</em> without sounding rude. Then again, he was perfectly capable of doing this himself and fully intended to do so until Din decided to join in. So he said, “Use pressure. It helps activate the nerves.”</p><p>That was how he ended up face down on the bed with Din straddling his hips as he deep-pressure massaged that vile karking salve into his back like he planned to change Boba’s life in the process. Maybe he was, because while there was no escaping the scent of putrid milk and bantha shit, Boba was moaning like—like—he was not sure. But he was making sounds with every press of Din’s fingers, with every press of his palm along the harsh flow of scars. And dear gods—<em>it felt amazing. </em>Not only was the pain in his epidermis going away, but he felt like every pain from all the years of sleeping in the pilot’s seat was leaving his body. Maybe the part of him that hadn’t seen fit to die in the sarlacc was finally leaving and he was dying a happy man.</p><p><em>Get a karking grip, Fett!</em> Boba took a deep, stinking breath and said in a voice that sounded <em>weak</em>, “That’s probably good enough.”</p><p>“You still have a big knot right here,” Din said as he pressed in with his thumbs on the latissimus dorsi.</p><p>Boba keened and wanted to disappear a little. He also wanted to understand how this could be both enjoyable and a nightmare. Boba managed to ask, “How are you so good at this?”</p><p>Din paused. “Good at what?”</p><p>“A-applying this shit,” Boba said because he didn’t want to say <em>giving a life changing back rub and turning me into jelly—please never stop. </em></p><p>“You never answered my question,” Din said as his thumbs worked the length of the muscle and Boba’s leg twitched.</p><p>Breathless, Boba asked, “What question?”</p><p>Din adjusted his angle and said, “How well known are you?”</p><p>“You didn’t look me up?” Boba asked with a hint of his cockiness despite how breathless he was.</p><p>“I thought about it,” Din said as his hands started rubbing up and down the line of Boba’s spine, pressing at just the right spot to feel amazing. “But I know people like us don’t typically make the HoloNet.”</p><p>“Dune looked me up in the New Republic database,” Boba said with a laugh.</p><p>“She told me.” Din’s hands found another knot, this time in Boba’s teres minor. His palm applied just the right amount of pressure, and Boba bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound he couldn’t explain. “I’m just surprised I never heard of you.”</p><p>“Different circles,” Boba said in a voice that quivered.</p><p>“True.” The pressure increased with Din’s palm and his other hand came up to Boba’s shoulder. The press of his hips against Boba’s ass and at that moment, Boba was having thoughts that were going a little too far outside the zone of <em>friend helping with a medical thing. </em></p><p>“I think we’re good now,” Boba said as he very carefully got up from the bed to avoid getting the substance on the coverings. He was happy he was still wearing his lower body armor. His nerves felt fine, but he was suddenly anxious and he snatched up his shirt and pulled it on to somewhat cover up the scent.</p><p>Din threw away the gloves and washed his hands in the fresher before he started taking off his armor. Boba hadn’t thought about him wearing full beskar while giving him the ultimate back rub.  <em>There’s an image that’s not going anywhere</em>.</p><p>A knock on the door made Boba growl. “What?”</p><p>“Your food, sirs,” came a slurping voice. Din opened the door for the Selkath with his helmet and blaster belt still in place. Whatever other scents had made it’s place in Boba’s head were instantly overpowered by the delicious aromas from the containers. The host left quickly.</p><p>Din said. “It looks better than you made it sound.”</p><p>Boba gestured for him to sit and he handed Din a plate, which he started loading with slices of meat from the pterathki and piles of the sides. “How many times have you been to Dantooine?”</p><p>“Once on a job,” Din answered. “What are these red things on the plate?”</p><p>“I’m not sure what they’re called, but I know they have a sweet flavor and creamy soft texture,” Boba said as he sat and made his own in the same way. “This is a planet wide staple. Pretty much the thing everyone grows up eating here. I learned about it because it became a favorite of Jabba for a time and was imported to the palace. It wasn’t until I was <em>here</em> that I learned how delicious it could be.”</p><p>Din smiled at that though it clashed with his usual scowl. “How do you eat this?”</p><p>“Use your hands to put it in your mouth,” Boba said as he used his fingers to rip off a piece of tender meat from the flank. Then, to be serious, “The best way is to take the leaf—I don’t know what it is, looks like a grape?—put a piece of the meat in the center, add a little of the sliced guriil root—those long white crispy things—and dip it in that reddish sauce, and then roll it up and stick the whole lot in your mouth.”</p><p>The Mandalorian raised an eyebrow, watching as Boba demonstrated the process. Boba couldn’t help the sound he made upon the first bite. Maybe it was the years of his life where food was sometimes not guaranteed. Maybe it was the years of living off a guaranteed ration pack. Maybe it was he already made more loud noises of satisfaction in that room than he ever intended in his life. But Boba enjoyed good food when he came across it. He licked his thumb and forefinger, and said, “You get that savory flavor with the amber smoke, with the sweetness from the nectar, a touch of spice from the seawater brine, and just that bit of crunch and seasoning in the guriil. This is karking delicious.”</p><p>Din finally took a proper bite of the pterathki, and the scowl on his face transformed into something dangerously close to a smile as Boba nodded at him with a smile of his own.</p><p>“You were right about the bird,” Din said later, when they finished the pterathki. They were seated on top of the roof of the cantina over looking the village. “We should leave early tomorrow for Dantoon City. Should only take a couple hours to get there on the bikes.”</p><p>Boba nodded. They couldn’t land <em>Slave I</em> in any of the New Republic ports. Landing on any New Republic planet was a challenge, but not impossible. And Boba was very good at getting his ship where he needed to be unnoticed by the authorities. The New Republic—while a little friendlier—had as many holes in their security as the Empire and Old Republic and they were easy to exploit. At least at a distance.</p><p>Din sighed up at the sky. “I wonder if Dune and Fennec are having any luck.”</p><p>“Fennec knows what she’s doing,” Boba said with a certain nod. He had ever confidence that Fennec would accomplish her mission concerning the contact. “And Dune is terrifying. They are fine.”</p><p>Din nodded. “We travel with scary women.”</p><p>“The best kind,” Boba said, clanking his bottle with Din’s before taking a drink. “I should probably stop drinking considering what we’re doing tomorrow.”</p><p>“I didn’t drink with the kid around,” Din said as he rubbed his forehead and slouched forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t much before anyway, but I realize how much I did after. Now I feel like I’m very…uh…”</p><p>“Easily inebriated?” Boba said as he brushed his fingers through the back of Din’s hair. Din nodded, and Boba said, “Then we will switch to water and—”</p><p>“This would be a good night for you and me to do it,” Din said, looking over his shoulder at Boba.  </p><p>Boba, who was never the type to settle for a misunderstanding, said, “What are we talking about?”</p><p>“Shout at the stars,” Din said as he gestured to the sky. “I bet no one would care if we sat up here and raised a little hell.”</p><p>“I like the way you think, Mandalorian,” Boba said.</p><p>“The stars are beautiful here,” Din said after taking a drink. “It’s not much different from how I grew up. When I was really little, I guess.”</p><p>“I could only see the stars when I left my home world,” Boba said with a smirk. He leaned back against the ridge of the roof and said, “Kamino—it rains all the time, always storms. There’s no seeing the stars.”</p><p>“It’s different when you live half your life flying around out there,” Din said as he gestured with a bottle. “I think about that sometimes. What would it be like to be like the people who live on a planet and never go anywhere else?”</p><p>“Sounds boring,” Boba said and accepted the bottle he was handed.</p><p>“Is there nothing that fixes the nerve damage?” Din asked, his tone and face showing how genuinely concerned he was.</p><p>“You don’t give any warning for subject changes.” He took a drink from the bottle as his eyes followed a ship moving across the sky. Boba said, “It’s something that needs a more refined cure, I’ve discovered. Eventually, I intend to find a good doctor I can trust to maybe cure the aftereffects of the sarlacc, but until then, I will trust what the Tuskens have been doing for thousands and thousands of years.”</p><p>“That’s likely a safe bet,” Din said as he looked Boba over as if inspecting. “Are you in any pain right now?”</p><p>“No more than normal,” Boba said in a burst of honesty. The look that Din gave him made him laugh. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me that you’ve lived this long as a bounty hunter and haven’t karked up enough to have at least a couple joints that cause you a bit of annoyance.”</p><p>“Truth.” Din sighed. “It’s the bed on the <em>Razor Crest</em>. Always felt wadded up.”</p><p>“You sleep good in my bed,” Boba said with a pointed look.</p><p>Din nodded. “It’s true.” He leaned back and landed with his head against Boba’s shoulder. He said, “I haven’t slept well in years. Not since my father—my second father—died. No one’s around to watch my back anymore, you know? And you—you watch my back.”</p><p>Boba was suddenly worried that the alcohol had been too much and Din was going to start saying things that he would never usually say. But then again, isn’t that what they were doing? Getting it all out in the open? The Mandalorian Way?</p><p>“You’re an asshole, Fett,” Din said, erasing those fears. He leaned his head into Boba’s and said, “But you’re the kind of asshole I like to have beside me. Because I’d hate to have you against me.”</p><p>Boba looked down at his wide open face. <em>How can a bounty hunter be so damned guileless? </em>He said, “That makes two of us. I would never wish to fight you, Mandalorian.”</p><p>“It’s Din,” he said with a smirk.</p><p>“Then call me Boba.” For some reason, making that request made his face heat up.</p><p>Din nodded and said, “Boba Fett, I love watching you fight. It is <em>very </em>enjoyable.”</p><p>“I’m flattered and I, uh, the feeling is mutual.” Boba used his free hand to cork the bottle and said, “I don’t need flattery or compliments, though.”</p><p>“I am not drunk enough for either,” Din said and Boba had to admit it was convincing. Then his face turned serious and he said, “<em>Dank farrick, </em>Boba. By your own reckoning, you’re a Mandalorian prince.”</p><p>Boba choked on air. He shook his head sitting up and forcing Din to do the same. The way the Mandalorian stared at him was amused, and there was part of him that wanted to wipe that look off his face. He said, “That’s not exactly how it works, and I’m cutting you off from booze.”</p><p>“You said your father inherited the title of <em>Mand’alor</em> from his father,” Din said, which was an accurate statement. One that had been used on him by other Mandalorians whom Boba had told to piss off. Din said, “By rite of inheritance, you are an exiled prince.”</p><p>“That’s not how it works,” Boba repeated because that seemed to be the best defense.</p><p>“How does it work?” Din asked.</p><p>Boba sighed, “For one, my father was already in exile and did <em>not</em> have the title of <em>Mand’alor</em> when he died, so it is not mine to claim. And two, I am a <em>clone</em> and many Mandalorians have <em>very</em> strong feelings about people with my face.”</p><p>Din squinted at him for a moment, and Boba could feel how hard he was being studied even before he said, “I looked up clone troops. I got curious.”</p><p>Boba’s chest tightened. It was a strange feeling of loss to look in the mirror and no longer see the replica of his father. He was not used to the scarred, disfigured, bald face that looked back at him. The lines were there, but landscape had changed. He knew that whatever Din saw, he looked nothing like them, and he suddenly didn’t want to know what Din had to say about it. Boba took a drink and was surprised to find there were things that somehow hurt worse than sarlacc acid.</p><p>“I wanted to know what others knew about them,” Din said softly, his hands fidgeting in his lap around the bottle in a way that Boba’s sometimes did. “I hope I didn’t just piss you off.”</p><p>“You didn’t,” Boba said softly, though he felt a little nauseous. He took another drink and looked at Din who had that expression of distress. Boba put his hand on Din’s forearm and said, “I am not angry, <em>burc’ya. </em>I just…” He sighed, “I guess this is one of those things that inspires me to scream.”</p><p>“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Din asked.</p><p>“I suppose…” Boba trailed off looking out over the village before looking down at the bottle. He shook his head and said, “They <em>scared</em> me as a kid. I… I tried to not show it. It was how my father talked about them. It…It’s a lot.”</p><p>“You don’t have to tell me,” Din said as he put his arm around Boba’s shoulders.</p><p>He looked at Din and after a moment’s hesitation, under the stars in an isolated village on Dantooine, Boba told Din about growing up among hundreds of thousands of clones who were all varying images and ages of himself. And all of them, with perhaps handful of exceptions, were now <em>dead</em>. He talked about how he used to love watching them train with his father, and then about the day his father told them that he was different from them and how it made him not feel special, but frightened. How he never wanted to watch the clone troops train ever again. Then how they appeared on the day his father was killed, fighting alongside the ones who killed Jango Fett. He talked about the times he’d encountered them, how they blended into each other. How he hated when they removed their helmets because he saw his father’s face.</p><p>Boba never talked about it to anyone. Ever. He didn’t expect to shed tears for the dead clones who he always thought of as his enemy since the day his father died—<em>some he helped kill</em>. People who now, looking back, he realized were no more special than him other than luck turning him into a child and them into soldiers. But was it luck? Every day since Jango died was a fight for survival, so much so that when Boba saw certain death coming his way in the form of the sarlacc, his reaction had been, <em>Finally</em>.</p><p>By the time he finished, Boba was the one who was sobbing and he found that it was hard to speak anymore. All he could do was hold his head in his heads. It took him a while to realize that Din’s arms were around him, and when he did he latched onto him with a fierceness that he could not easily explain. It seemed like everything was too much and the one stable point was the same person Boba swore he was going to keep together.</p><p>Without prior discussion, they leaned back from each other, inhaled, and roared at the sky. Boba recalled hearing something about how Mandalorians would roar in battle to terrify their opponents, and he was certain that if anyone heard him and Din—and it was a good chance—they were probably somewhat terrified of what may be in their village.</p><p>“<em>Dank farrik,</em>” Din said as he squeezed him closer, pressing his forehead against his. His voice was strained as he said, “That’s a wild way to live, Boba.”</p><p>Boba wondered if Din knew what some Mandalorians called such a gesture. Boba felt so wrung out by it all he clung to the feeling of the gesture—<em>brotherhood, fellowship, a strong bond</em>—as he understood it, the hand not holding his almost empty bottle of booze gripping the back of Din’s neck. “It was. I can’t believe that some people just have…” he waved his hand, gesturing to the peaceful village below them with the bottle. “This. This is so nice.”</p><p>“Reminds me of Sorgan,” Din said with a sigh. “Back when I first had the kid. I wanted to find a place to just lay low, and that place seemed perfect.”</p><p>“It really was perfect,” Boba said with a chuckle, finally sitting a little straighter and parting from the Mandalorian. “That’s why I have so damned much spotchka on board. I was tracking you and found folksy paradise complete with moonshine.”</p><p>Din smiled, his hand coming up to hold onto Boba’s wrist attached to the hand holding his shoulder. “Grogu loved it there. I wish it would have been possible for the kid to just have a life, you know? He’s kind of like you and me. None of us have had a basic <em>childhood</em>. This whole damned <em>galaxy</em> is nothing but generations of stolen childhoods with all the wars.” He paused to take a drink from the bottle, and continued, “I did what I could to give him moments that were good. But I know it was no life for a kid. I know that. I still miss him like crazy.”</p><p>Boba set aside his bottle and pulled Din into a tight hug that the Mandalorian melted into his shoulder as he cried. After a few minutes, Din tapped Boba’s side and took the bottle from him. After a long drink and the two roared at the sky.</p><p>“Is this how it is done?” Boba asked as he wiped his face on the back of his sleeve, unaware at what point he’d started crying again.</p><p>Din was in the same condition, unabashedly sniffling. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not. My people would not remove their helmets. Straws are very popular for these events.”</p><p>Boba laughed and after a second of staring at him, Din joined him. Once Boba managed to come to some semblance of order, he sighed and said, “I guess the better question is how do you feel?”</p><p>“Tired,” Din said. “You?”</p><p>“Exhausted,” Boba admitted. There was a list of reasons, but somehow the reason he said didn’t make the top. “We did kill twenty-three mercenaries today.”</p><p>Din nodded. “Probably more tomorrow. That was not part of the plan.”</p><p>“I’ve heard your legends, Din Djarin,” Boba said with a smirk. “Isn’t that supposed to be what you do in your spare time?”</p><p>“It is what I did in my spare time,” Din pointed out.</p><p>“According to the local time, it is very late and their sun doesn’t rise for another nine standard hours,” Boba said. “Maybe we should go inside and get some sleep.”</p><p>Din gave Boba that look that looked like he wanted to say something but likely wasn’t going to say anything.</p><p>“What is on your mind?” Boba asked because he was drunk enough to want to know and damn the consequences.</p><p>Din stood and turned his back before saying, “We’re sleeping together tonight, right?”</p><p><em>Nice tactic</em>. <em>At least you know you can’t hide your thoughts. </em>Boba said, “Of course we are.” <em>Wait, I’m not keeping up. What did I just answer? Oh! </em>“I mean, that’s—we do that.”</p><p><em>Why is this suddenly awkward? I will not let this be awkward. </em>Boba stood and only slightly stumbled. <em>I am drunk. I will behave myself and not be awkward.</em></p><p>Din put on his helmet. “I’m going to go back inside.”</p><p>Boba gave the stars another look and headed into the building, and down to the room where Din was standing between the beds wearing only the pants of his flight suit. Boba had no helmet or armor or other method of hiding the way his eyes were scanning over Din’s muscular torso. He had a few scars of his own, just to the outside of where the beskar protected, little glancing blows and burns that seemed to accentuate his warrior’s body.</p><p>He couldn’t help but think back to watching him bare-hand snap necks out at the farm. <em>Damn.</em></p><p>Din asked, “Which bed are we sleeping in?”</p><p>“The one on the left looks bigger,” Boba said as he kicked himself off the wall. They were going to sleep. They were two drunk men who have slept in the same bed for several standard days. They were going to sleep together again after a heck of a fight, some good food, some good booze, a little screaming and crying—it’s been a hell of a day.</p><p>That they quickly found their way into the spots that were most comfortable was both nice and somewhat alarming. Boba was that level of drunk where everything felt a little better than it normally did, and he pressed his nose into the softness of Din’s hair at the side of his head. Din’s free hand gripped Boba’s back. Boba’s free hand stroked the space between Din’s shoulder blades.</p><p>“Boba,” Din said softly, his face pressed against Boba’s chest.</p><p>Boba hummed a questioning note.</p><p>“I…” He leaned back a little to look Boba in the eyes and said, “I am glad that our paths crossed.”</p><p>There was supposed to be professional curiosity. There was supposed to be—Boba’s eyes were having trouble focusing on Din’s eyes. Instead he wanted to see the way the moonlight from the windows illuminated Din’s face and reflected in his eyes and shined off his lips that his tongue just moistened. A strange desire to kiss him was growing in Boba’s mind, but that was not inside the boundaries of what they—what <em>he </em>was trying to do.</p><p><em>What am I trying to do? Provide friendship? Comfort in loss? Am I doing that anymore? </em>Boba leaned forward, his nose brushing against Din’s. He could feel the quake that went through the Mandalorian’s body as he leaned his forehead against his, choosing not to go beyond that gentle touch. He told himself, <em>it’s a kiss in Keldabe.</em></p><p>“Likewise,” Boba said.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time, Fennec and Dune rejoin and Din gets a clue</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Fighting and Honor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter and I FOUGHT. A lot. Like tearing out my hair I AM NOT ACTUALLY GOOD AT THIS SHIT kind of fighting. </p><p>Be gentle.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fennec Shand was someone Boba Fett knew a long time in a professional setting. They moved in the same circles. Before, they never had much to talk about when they encountered each other; he could not recall a single conversation that was not required pleasantry because of the setting they happened to occupy. Both were all about business.</p><p>Almost dying—not just the typical near misses that come with the job, but the true, honestly terrifying moments of staring into the eyes of the Void—it changes a person. For Boba, it was the sarlacc. For Fennec, it was being gut-shot and left for dead. Both had time to review their lives, and both realized that if given a chance, they would change things if they could.</p><p>These shared feelings created a bond between Boba and Fennec as he carefully pieced her back together aboard his ship. She told him many things when the pain was too much and the truth came out. Things that she swore him to silence over because she did not like that she shed her tears so violently over what she considered foolish thoughts. Change doesn’t happen overnight.</p><p>Looking back, Boba wondered if he should have done things different with her. Maybe he should have given her the same kind of gentility that he gave Din. He did his best to not be needlessly painful, to be certain. She wasn’t the type to complain, either. Either way, it was done and he couldn’t be a shoulder to cry on now or train his face to not do <em>whatever</em> it did to make her think he was angry at her for having emotions.</p><p>Now, Fennec had no problem with her emotions. She shared them quite freely, and it was so clear that she was having many feelings for Dune. It was the way they walked into the ship dock together, something in their body language that Boba could pick up on. Fennec let it out clear and without attempting to hide that the rebel had a great deal of her attention.</p><p>And when Fennec and Boba had concluded updating each other in the comfort of the cockpit in hyperspace, bound for Tatooine, Fennec took a drink of her wine while perched in the copilot’s seat and said, “Spill it, Fett.”</p><p>Boba looked at her through the T-visor of the helmet. “You might want to be specific, Shand.”</p><p>“You gave an excellent detailed account of everything you did on the clock, but <em>wow</em> did you have downtime,” Fennec said with a smirk and twinkle in her eye.</p><p>“I don’t recall asking what you did when not negotiating with GCTC or Czerka representatives,” Boba said with a practiced nonchalance, as if he wasn’t thinking about how he and Din somehow woke up that morning with <em>less</em> clothes than when they went to sleep. Then when they were both awake, the idea of <em>not</em> touching seemed to be a bad idea to both of them.</p><p>And their touches were not just the sort to keep arms and legs comfortable while sleeping beside each other in close quarters.</p><p>It wasn’t even anything specific. There was an odd sort of magic that settled over them where it was fine to examine each other, so long as there was no separation. Din talked in his deep smooth whisper about different injuries where the medikit wasn’t enough to get the job done or not on hand as Boba’s fingers gently outlined their scars. Boba couldn’t talk about his scars, so he talked about the remains of the tattoo on his right arm given to him by Bossk when they were in prison and he was 13 while Din’s hands traced the patterns across his ribs and stomach down to his thighs.</p><p>Touching skin—touching <em>his</em> skin too—it was not done. It all felt overwhelming. There was equal desire to lean into every single motion of Din’s hands and instinct to flee because he was terrified of what it meant to feel this way. If it were <em>only</em> the touching, that would be one thing, but it was also the swelling of something in his chest that made his damned eyes water.</p><p>Considering Din found himself in the same condition, it was not as frightening. Some things are better experienced with another in the same situation, and Boba had the feeling they were both extremely touch-starved. And that morning, they seemed to realize they could devour each other for touch.</p><p>Both were extremely sensitive. In Boba’s case, he had nerve damage. There were places where his skin was far more sensitive than it should be, and others where he did not feel anything at all. But even before the sarlacc, Boba was not touched by other people. He was barely touched by himself. His touch-knowledge was based in combat, and that felt so wrong.</p><p>Din was much the same, though. Mandalorians aren’t taught how to be gentle or to ask for soft things. He was lost in his need for something he couldn’t name, but Boba understood. He always seemed to understand from the first time he saw him on the floor by the bunks on <em>Slave I.</em></p><p>Something about it felt <em>innocent</em>, which Boba would scoff at if anyone said such a thing about him. He couldn’t recall ever being innocent. His memories were too full of dark things. And they were <em>very</em> dark regardless how he framed it. At the same time, he came to acknowledge that he’d never been given much of a chance when it came to life in general. How can you be innocent when your earliest memory is watching your father be murdered and burying him? How can you be innocent when you spend your early years killing to keep people away from you in prison? Those trying to survive never have time for innocence.</p><p>Boba Fett wanted time for himself. He also knew that this was not possible. Not with everything already in motion.</p><p>“We’re friends, Fett, even if you want to pretend we’re just partners,” Fennec said with barely contained amusement at his extended silence. “I know something happened other than a couple good fights and whatever the deal is with the Twi’lek.”</p><p>Boba huffed, and it crackled through the vocoder. “He is a doctor and <em>was</em> a slave. Din saved him after almost killing him.”</p><p>“I think he makes all his friends that way,” Fennec said with a look that indicated she saw through his stalling. “You can tell me to mind my karking business, and I’ll finish my wine and go bug Dune for what she knows. It’s a small ship and Tatooine is how many days away?”</p><p>“Why are you so fascinated with my life?” Boba asked as he slouched back.</p><p>Fennec laughed. “You’re my closest friend and you are acting strange. I want to make sure it is for good reasons.”</p><p>Boba gave a single nod. “It is.”</p><p>“Good,” Fennec said.</p><p>This is why Boba respected Fennec. It was why he <em>liked</em> her. It took him a lot longer to get to the point of being able to say it even in his mind that he would consider Fennec a friend, but it was true. She was loyal to the core since he saved her life. There were plenty of people out there who would pay a lot of money for both of them, and there was never a moment that Boba worried she was going to turn him in. She only wondered if he was okay, and he wondered if she wasn’t if that meant bad things for the <em>Mand’alor</em> who was currently installing the new equipment in the crew quarters.</p><p>Boba turned his attention to the trajectory and said, “He’s staying.”</p><p>He could see Fennec’s coy smile in his viewscreen.</p><p>She said, “How did that happen?”</p><p>“He offered,” Boba said with a shrug.</p><p>It wasn’t really that simple. He wasn’t sure it would have come up if not for the Twi’lek. Eil suspected from the very beginning they were there to kill him because he’d finally pissed off his owner for lack of productivity for the last time.</p><p>“We’re here because a farm was raided by mercenaries,” Din gritted out with a hint of his anger showing in his tone after an improvised chemical bomb had temporarily blinded his helmet sensors. “From what we gathered, you are the one that sent them.”</p><p>The Twi’lek laughed without humor and came out of hiding. “If you believe I have the money to hire killers, then are mistaken. I am indentured to the Haslan Worlfsa Company, expected to produce a specialty sort of spice that is very popular among politicians. I fell behind because one of the ingredients is supplied by a farm near here. That’s the extent of my involvement. I did not ask for some monstrous raid. I asked for spores from a mushroom so that I wouldn’t get beaten again.”</p><p>By the time he finished talking, Eil had tears in his eyes and his breath was coming in short, quick bursts.</p><p>Din looked at Boba, and then said to the Twi’lek, “This Halfdan Wolf Corporation—”</p><p>“Haslan Worlfsa Company,” Eil said softly.</p><p>“They here in Dantoon City?” Din asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Eil said with a frown. “They have a massive warehouse practically on top of the New Republic base.” He laughed in that same miserable way. “It’s hilarious, really, the way that they sit there with a staff of forced laborers and the New Republic probably has not noticed at all. They certainly do nothing about it if they have noticed.”</p><p>Through the private comm, Din said, “<em>Dune should know about this.”</em></p><p><em>“Go; I’ll keep an eye on our friend here.”</em> Boba watched Din leave and felt that uncontrollable admiration of his competence. Dune was a good resource. A constant inroad when it came to the New Republic, and one who would likely be quick to act when it came to a situation that Din got himself involved in. Din seemed prone to finding situations.</p><p>When he looked back, the Twi’lek was giving him a weary smile. Boba said nothing, turning his attention instead to the laboratory surrounding them. It was clear more than once violence had visited this place; there were blaster burns on the walls and ceiling.</p><p>“You are partners?” Eil said with a smile.</p><p>Boba looked at him and said, “We travel together.”</p><p>Eil nodded, his long lekku falling over his shoulders. “I used to have someone I travelled with, too. I miss her very much. She died during the war. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if she had lived. Would I have ended up on this terrible planet in this horrible place.”</p><p>Boba would normally not engage in conversations, but that moment he felt sentimental. He asked, “What is your profession other than spice specialist?”</p><p>“I am no spice specialist. I was a doctor and a chemist,” Eil said with a sniffle. “Quite good one, actually. I used to think I was going to cure diseases. Now I get people high under threat of torture. Now, I just want to do go anywhere that isn’t Dantooine.”</p><p>Boba frowned beneath the helmet and said, “That is unfortunate. Do you wish to return to your former profession?”</p><p>“I never can,” Eil said with a huff of air that may have been a sob. “I am wanted by too many governments because of these cretins.”</p><p>An idea popped into Boba’s head. He asked, “Would you consider relocating to Tatooine?”</p><p>Eil laughed again, just as humorless. “You must be joking. I want to stop being a slave, Mandalorian. Not become property of the Hutts.”</p><p>Boba nodded and said, “That is fair enough. That planet has gone to shit under their rule for far too long.”</p><p>“You say that as if you intend to do something about it,” Eil said with a stoic expression.</p><p>“I do,” Boba said.</p><p>Then Eil’s eyes narrowed and he said, “It seems as if I should know who you are, and for some reason it worries me.”</p><p>“You are in no danger from me,” Boba said. <em>You have gone so damned soft. </em>“We came here looking for a monster. You are not a monster.”</p><p>“Is it really that simple?” Eil said with a huff.</p><p>Boba nodded once and turned hearing Din coming back. He said in the comm, “<em>Did you get in contact?”</em></p><p><em>“Yes. She’s thrilled because Fennec has made her stand back and be silent through the meetings,”</em> Din said with what Boba could tell was a smile just by the tone of his voice. Boba could almost see the annoyance Dune must feel being in a throng of underworld types and not allowed to snap any necks. He had the same trouble at times.</p><p>“<em>What do you want to do with the doctor?”</em> Boba asked.</p><p>Din cocked his head. <em>“He’s a doctor?”</em></p><p><em>“Yes,” </em>Boba answered.</p><p>“<em>Do we have to do anything with him?”</em> Din asked after a moment of thought.</p><p>The Twi’lek asked, “Are you two talking to each other through your helmets? Because it is very strange to watch and not hear.”</p><p>“Do you have somewhere to go?” Din asked.</p><p><em>I should have asked that, </em>Boba thought.</p><p>Eil said, “I am not your responsibility. I will make my way as I have before.”</p><p>Boba didn’t like the way that sounded. He said, “No, you will need credits to make your way.”</p><p>He reached into his pocket to retrieve a credit chip, and Eil waved him off. “No! I will not owe you. I…I don’t trust you.”</p><p>On the fly, Boba said, “You don’t have to trust me. I’m hiring you for a service that you will perform and then we will part ways.”</p><p>Din looked at him.</p><p>“For what?” Eil asked.</p><p>“Can you perform molecular replication in this laboratory?” Boba asked.</p><p>Eil nodded, still very wary. “For some substances, yes. Depending on their complexity. As I tried to explain to the idiots who bought me, it is not possible using current technologies to replicate all substances completely due to the anomalies that occur at the genetic level when it comes to fungi. So provided that your substance does not contain certain kinds of fungus, you may be in luck.”</p><p>“As far as I know, it does not contain fungus, but then again I don’t have a recipe and it smells like shit.”</p><p>It did, as it turns out, contain fungus, but it was one whose active ingredients were easily synthesized. By the time Din and Boba did the reconnaissance on what turned out to be a fairly large import-export/slave trading business, Eil had created a replicant of the Tuskan formula that supposedly would have all the same effects without any of the offensive scents.</p><p>Considering Boba had no reason to test it, he decided to take Eil’s word for it.</p><p>Boba was tucking away the container when Eil said, “I remembered who you are, Boba Fett.”</p><p>Din, who was cleaning the dust from his T-visor, looked their direction. Boba noticed he tended to groom.</p><p>“And how do you know me,” Boba asked calmly.</p><p>“I was not your bounty, which you no doubt know,” Eil answered, his hands wringing the strap of his satchel, but his golden eyes did not flinch. “I was held by the Assembler, Kud’ar Mub’at. Once. Several years ago. You passed through and I saw. The Assembler was very fond of you.”</p><p>“Yes,” Boba said, his skin crawling at the thought of the massive arachnid. “What do you want?”</p><p>“I want nothing other than to understand why you are recruiting a doctor,” Eil said.</p><p>Boba said, “There is a hospital in Mos Espa. They see only wealthy patients and those sent by the Hutts. I want to change that. Tatooine—it’s not the best place. I know this. But it has been my home more often than anywhere else. I know what is wrong with it. And I can fix a lot of it with a few well placed blaster bolts, but other things take different kinds of professionals.”</p><p>“So, you’re going to take over and make it paradise,” Eil said with obvious doubt.</p><p>“No,” Boba said with a huff. “Tatooine is always going to be a hot desert shithole, but that doesn’t mean everyone has to suffer at the hands of the corporate and syndicate slave traders. I’ve seen it too much.”</p><p>Eil’s grip on his satchel strap loosened and he said, “Boba Fett, feared bounty hunter—a philanthropist?”</p><p>“Money flows better when everything is running smoothly,” Boba said flatly, and he ignored the way Din shook his head. “It’s not philanthropy.”</p><p>“Regardless how you choose to interpret it, I find myself curious and as I have no interest to remain on Dantooine, I ask to resend my earlier rejection of your kind offer,” Eil said with a slight bow. “I will come to Tatooine as you requested. I do not promise to remain there, but I am certainly intrigued to see what happens.”</p><p>Boba gave him instructions to go to the village where <em>Slave I </em>waited, along with plenty of money to get him passage on a transport since he couldn’t ride on the swoop bikes. Eil thanked them, and when he was gone, Din and Boba walked together towards the trade district.</p><p>They were in the middle of a small bridge crossing a little inlet river when Din stopped and said, “I am also intrigued to see what happens.”</p><p>Boba stopped and turned towards him. At that point he could almost still smell and taste the Mandalorian’s skin. Curiosity got the best of him. <em>Salty was the best descriptor but with hints of something warm like the sun. Sweat, but not the bad parts of it.</em> He said the only thing he could think. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“If you’ll have me, I’ll stay with you on Tatooine,” he said. Everything about him, his tone, his posture, the way he reached towards Boba—it was clear that this is what he wanted. He <em>wanted</em> to stay on Tatooine. With Boba.</p><p>“Wherever I have a home, so do you,” Boba answered without thinking. There was no other option.</p><p>“Good,” Din said, then walked on like he hadn’t just made Boba’s decade.</p><p>And everything seemed perfect. For approximately five to ten minutes.</p><p>New Republic propaganda concerning the upcoming celebration of Remembrance Day. Some of those flashing holoimages featured none other than galactic hero, destroyer of the first Death Star, and purported slayer of both the Emperor and Darth Vader—Luke Skywalker. Boba sneered at these images under his helmet with the same kind of passive annoyance he always felt concerning the little shit.</p><p>Then he noticed the way Din stood in front of one of them, stock still and fixated on the black-clad, blond with the ocean-blue eyes and green lightsaber. Now, up until this point, Boba hadn’t really thought too much about the fact that Din Djarin might not realize that Luke Skywalker was a household name for much of the galaxy. He was, after all, a little out of the loop when it came to most things concerning wider galactic events and personalities—even when they had a massive effect on the galaxy.</p><p>Several times Boba brought up Luke Skywalker. The way that Din described the Jedi that took Grogu reminded him of the little prick. So much so that when Boba imagined the whole scene in his head, he pictured the Skywalker boy there on the bridge. Probably talking in that placid voice he used in Jabba’s palace, mildly-threatening and a little unimpressive despite his accolades. Right up until the part that the little bastard damaged his karking jetpack and—</p><p>“Boba,” Din said in a voice that cracked.</p><p>Boba gently nudged him.</p><p>“That’s the Jedi,” Din said with an edge of panic in his voice. “<em>Dank farrick</em>, what have I done!”</p><p>A few others nearby looked at them. <em>I cannot shoot all of them and maintain reasonable expectation of anonymity. </em></p><p>A thing Boba is really good at: quickly finding somewhere private where no one can see or hear or is likely to show up anytime soon even in relatively unfamiliar public places. This is somewhat of a valuable professional skill, but it was also useful for taking care of a Mandalorian who was on the verge of having a small breakdown in the middle of a city square.</p><p>The spot he found was a place where two buildings connected awkwardly, creating a little pocket where only leaves and trash had gathered. Boba pressed Din against the wall and said, “Tell me.”</p><p>“How did you know he was the Jedi?” Din asked in an accusatory tone as he shoved Boba back. “You kept <em>talking</em> about him.”</p><p>“The little shit is why I ended up in a sarlacc pit,” Boba snipped. “That tends to put someone on your mind.”</p><p>“But that’s the problem!” Din almost shouted. “Grogu is supposed to be protected from the remnants of the Galactic <em>karking</em> Empire, and I gave him to the <em>karking</em> hero of the New Republic! People like that have enemies, and clearly one of them is <em>you</em>.”</p><p>Boba didn’t want to say how bad it actually sounded when he put it that way. Instead he calmly asked, “Do you believe you did the right thing?”</p><p>“No!” Din practically shrieked. “I couldn’t possibly have given him to a less safe individual! Who—what! Gods! <em>What</em> is going to be coming after him? Imps? Sith Lords? <em>Karking bounty hunters</em>!” Din flopped against the wall and let out growl. “Luke Skywalker has enemies and Luke Skywalker has my <em>foundling</em>.” He slammed his fist into the wall and the wall crumbled away just a little. “And I’m the karking king of <em>Mandalore</em>. That’s nice. With an angry princess who wants to ritualistically <em>murder</em> me in half a year. That’s great. Then who is going to kill every <em>karking</em> piece of scum who puts a bounty on Skywalker’s head? Or Grogu’s? Or <em>kriff</em>, yours for that matter.”</p><p>Boba ignored that Din included him on the list of people he would kill for, and skipped straight to saying, “We can get him back. Like you said, he’s the hero of the Republic. He can’t be hard to find.”</p><p>There was a special kind of panic in Din’s voice when he grabbed Boba’s shoulders and shouted, “That is <em>not</em> comforting!”</p><p>“He’s also likely under heavy guard the likes you’ve never seen before,” Boba added. He did not give in to the temptation to put his arms around Din’s waist. “I’ve seen the kind of facilities high ranking politicians tend to gravitate towards. Their security is excellent, and a Jedi is going to be harder to sneak up on. It would take people with our skillset to actually get to him.”</p><p>Din was quiet for a moment, his hands relaxing on Boba’s shoulders. “That actually does sound comforting.”</p><p>“You found the right person,” Boba said. <em>Even if I’d like to punch him. Just once. </em></p><p>Din’s hands went from Boba’s shoulders to the thick material of his cloak<em>. </em>“It makes no sense, Boba.”</p><p>“And Bo-Katan won’t murder you,” Boba told him because that seemed important to go back to. “It would be considered dishonorable if she murdered you to get the Darksaber, ritualistic or otherwise.”</p><p>“Boba,” Din said with warning in his tone. “I don’t want to think about this for a while. I need the galaxy to stop. Don’t tell me it can’t.”</p><p><em>I’ll do my best</em>. Boba decided it was worth the risk and put his arms around Din’s waist. It must have been the right thing to do, because Din’s immediate response was to let out a long, exhausted sigh. Boba knew that Din still struggled with the pain of losing the foundling, whom he loved even if he could not use those words. He hid his emotions behind duty and honor. Like Boba, no one ever taught him that it was okay to feel the things he was feeling. The only reason Boba ever decided it was okay at all was because he survived too much and lived too hard for too karking long to have someone look at him when he cried and tell him it was wrong.</p><p>Boba held him close and tried to think about things that bring him peace as if he could somehow give that feeling back to Din. He slowed his breath, focusing on his thoughts. <em>The hum of </em>Slave I <em>as it moves through hyperspace. The scent of the sand of Tatooine after a storm. The blue-black light of the night sky above Dantooine the night before with Din’s head laying against his shoulder. Waking up beside him.</em></p><p>Din’s head tilted forward, and their helmet’s clanked together as the Mandalorian let out a shaky breath. He relaxed somewhat, and Boba’s eyes drifted closed as he leaned into Din, pressing him into the wall. Pressure and gravity seemed to have achieved the goal of making the universe slow down a little.</p><p>After a while, Din said, “You are right.”</p><p>“About what?” Boba said with a soft laugh. “As you say, I talk a lot.”</p><p>Din made a noise that was probably of annoyance. “He’s well-guarded. Short of people like you and me breaking in, no one is going to bother Grogu in Skywalker’s care.”</p><p>“Skywalker is probably a good caretaker,” Boba said, trying his best to look past the part about him being a Jedi. “The Jedi, they take care of their own.”</p><p>Din straightened away from him and said, “I hope so. I have to believe I made the right choice. At the time…” He looked down where he had gripped the dangling end of Boba’s cloak. “I had this<em> feeling</em>. I felt like it was right. That I was doing the right thing, and deep inside my soul—my <em>manda</em>—that this was what had to happen. I feel like it is a lot to face for one who was never meant for this. I am not like you, Boba.”</p><p>That statement caught Boba off guard. He cocked his head slightly. “How do you mean?”</p><p>“You’ve been in the thick of all of this since birth,” Din said in a tone so miserable it made Boba go still. “You know about the Republic, the Empire, Jedi, Sith Lords, Skywalker, Mandalorian history, the wars, the political <em>kriff</em>, and probably thousands of other things that make me feel like a damned fool. This should not be my life. I’m a bounty hunter, and I realize I’m probably a damn good father. I’m not supposed to be <em>Mand’alor</em>. I don’t want to be in the middle of galactic politics. All I wanted was for Grogu to be safe, and he is, and here I am.”</p><p>Boba wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t like hearing it by any stretch. Din was the most capable person he’d ever encountered, even if he didn’t see it that way. Boba admired him because he truly was a simple man trying to make his way through the galaxy. It’s what made him seem so ideal. He was an honest man who wanted what was best for everyone, down the poorest of the poor. Until the sarlacc, Boba never gave much thought to actively trying to do <em>kriff</em> concerning politics beyond occasionally collecting a bounty on a head of state who deserved it. Now the next call of business was to get to Tatooine to take over the whole damned planet, and from there all of Hutt Space. It was going to take time, but between Fennec and Boba, they had the connections, know-how, and cold-blooded willingness to make it happen.</p><p>Boba took a deep breath and cleared his head of all the thoughts that were trying to shove their way in. He was a rational and logical man, and Din was in a highly emotional state. This was not the time to let his own emotions cloud things when the Mandalorian needed him.</p><p>The moment he stopped thinking, another thought came into his head as clear as day. It was as if he suddenly understood clearly what Din was so afraid in all of this turmoil.</p><p><em>He does not believe he is enough for what he has been given to do.</em> Boba’s hands wrapped around Din’s where it held his cloak. He didn’t know how he knew, but Boba knew the Mandalorian was looking at him. He could feel that their eyes were meeting through their T-visors. Despite everything, Boba could feel warmth. He swore that it was coming from Din. It wasn’t heat, not really, but it nonetheless had the same thermodynamic effects. Boba felt expansive, lighter. This warmth met the coldness that always existed in him, and Boba knew that he was not supposed to feel warmth for others. But he did when it came to Din. He wanted him to feel comfort and peace. He didn’t want him to worry about his son, or about politics, or the duel, or anything else. So he focused on the warmth he felt and willed it to be projected back.     </p><p>Instead planning out his words, Boba just spoke. “I have no words that will make it feel right, <em>cyar’ika</em>. I can only tell you that I will do all I can to help you through it. No matter what, I will be beside you. I promise that.”</p><p>Din was quiet for a moment, just staring. Then he nodded and said, “Okay.”</p><p>They had nothing else to say on the matter. Din had nothing else to say until they were back on the ship.</p>
<hr/><p>With the autopilot fixed, the game of sabacc started with five players. Initially Fennec complained it wasn’t fair to have <em>two</em> Mandalorians in the same game, but when Din revealed he was an absolutely shitty card player after the first few hands, she stopped caring that he wore his helmet. The surprise pro was Eil, who claimed he gained his prowess over the years while trying to gain favor with various guards. Both Fennec and Boba agreed that it was a useful way to gain friends in prison.</p><p>“How many times have you been to prison?” Dune asked Fennec and Boba.</p><p>“My first trip I was 14,” Fennec said with a smirk.</p><p>“Twelve for me,” Boba said as he shuffled.</p><p>Dune looked at Din. “How about you, Mando?”</p><p>“Technically I was locked up in a prison cell once, but it only lasted ten minutes,” he answered. “That was about a year and a half ago.”</p><p>Eil scoffed. “Oh goodness. Such time. And you, Marshal?”</p><p>“I served a week in the brig for punching a mouthy XO who had it coming after Endor,” she said before downing the last of her spotchka. Her knuckles were raw from her most recent fight in Dantoon City. She didn’t want a bacta treatment according to Fennec. She said, “Supposedly, I’m off the wanted lists now. But with the Imps turning up everywhere, who knows?”</p><p>“I’ve technically never been to prison,” Eil said as he took a sip of his drink. “Though I’ve been under guard a great deal and spent a lot of time in cells.”</p><p>Dune looked somewhat horrified, and said, “Oh shit! I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t thinking.”</p><p>“It’s fine, <em>ma sareen</em>,” Eil said with his purring accent. “I am adequately drunk to be willing to joke of my experiences. My people are also very hearty.” He tossed out his next bet and said, “I have not heard how things went with my former owners, though I did see something burning as I left the city?”</p><p>“Oh, that wasn’t them,” Fennec said with a smirk. She did not elaborate, but Boba knew she was somehow responsible.</p><p>Dune shrugged. “There’s not much to tell, really. I just contacted the local New Republic citadel for some backup on a lead concerning a potential slave trader in the city of Dantoon. We raided it. I got to knock some heads together. All the people we found in their operation were processed and are currently being put through a rehabilitation program to deconstruct after their experience.”</p><p>“Deconstruct?” Boba said.</p><p>“It’s something that comes from the New Republic Council on Wellness,” Dune said as she studied her cards. “They have this whole process for people who have been through traumatic experiences. Apparently they made a special course just for the remaining citizens of Alderaan.” She paused. Her jaw clenched. Then she said, “But they have specific ones for those who’ve been in forced labor camps, slaves, or other complex situations.”</p><p>Because of the heat sensors in his helmet, Boba could see Fennec move the hand not holding her cards very subtly to rest on Dune’s knee. Even more surprising was how Dune seemed to relax at the touch. Boba couldn’t help the smile on his face.</p><p>“I did not know the New Republic did that,” Din said from beside Boba.</p><p>Dune nodded. “They have a council for everything. Some of them are actually worth a damn.”</p><p>On their private comm, Din asked, “<em>Did Mandalore do things like that?”</em></p><p><em>“Not that I know of,</em>” Boba answered.</p><p>“They are talking through their helmets again,” Eil said, eyeing them both.</p><p>Dune’s eyes squinted. “You guys can do that? You can talk to each other through your helmets?”</p><p>“Yes,” Boba and Din answered in near unison.</p><p>“Most bounty hunters and mercs wear helmets specifically to communicate without having to be heard,” Fennec said to Dune with an odd twinkle in her eye. “We need to get you fitted with something we can wire a comm to.”</p><p>Dune frowned at her cards, then looked at Fennec. “I’ve never liked helmets. I don’t like anything blocking my vision.”</p><p>Boba laughed once.</p><p>Din said, “I see substantially better through the helmet than without it.”</p><p>“I have a 360-degree view option,” Boba said.</p><p>“Heat detection that I can adjust to any range,” Din added.</p><p>“Targeting that I can calibrate depending on my weaponry,” Boba said.</p><p>Din looked at him. “Echolocation.”</p><p>“That’s a good one,” Boba said with a nod. “I’ll have to look into that upgrade.”</p><p>“I can do it for you,” Din said.</p><p>Dune started laughing and said to Fennec, “Okay, I see it now.”</p><p>“You get what I mean?” Fennec almost giggled out.</p><p>Eil nodded as if he had been in on the conversation, his lekku undulating slightly as he said, “It is clear there is much between them.”</p><p>Boba was about to say something back, something snarky to shut them up. He preferred his privacy. He didn’t like being the target of jokes, especially when he wasn’t really sure what to call what was between him and the man beside him.</p><p>Then Din’s voice came through his helmet, “<em>I want there to be nothing but air between us in the bunk this sleep cycle.”</em></p><p>Boba shivered from the tone of his voice and all that it could possibly mean.</p><p>He said, “Are we going to play this <em>karking</em> game or not?”</p><p>By the time their game and many other games ended, Eil and Dune were both drunk and snoozing against each other on the bench against the wall. Due to staying in full beskar because of their new passenger, neither Boba nor Din removed their helmets and therefore stayed sober.</p><p>Fennec was mostly sober, and said, “I’m going to go up to the cockpit and watch the stars. I’ll let you know if the soundproofing didn’t work.”</p><p>“Oh, it works,” Din said as he stood and stretched. Boba did the same, though he had to wonder how in the world Din tested the soundproofing or why Fennec would need to inform them of it failing.</p><p>Boba went down the ladder first and once they were in the cargo area, he started removing his armor as he always did, starting with his helmet, placing it in its spot on the rack. He was about to start with the pressure clasps on his chest piece when Din’s hands swatted his away. For a moment, Boba tensed. Then he relaxed as the clasps released and Din carefully removed the piece and with just as much care, placed the piece of armor on the rack.</p><p>“I noticed you have a new scrape here,” Din said, pointing to a nick in the paint. “We’ll need to fix that before it becomes a weak spot.”</p><p>Boba smiled as Din continued to inspect the rest of the chest and back plates. “That happened at the farm, I think.”</p><p>“I need to take care of you,” Din said with a tone that, through the helmet’s speaker, sounded amused.</p><p>“Is that so?” Boba asked because it sounded like the strangest concept. No one took care of him.</p><p>Din took his hand and started releasing the clasps on his vambraces. “Yes. I need to take care of you.”</p><p>There was a part of Boba that sincerely wanted to fight this activity. He was not accustomed to someone else touching his armor, but somehow when it was Din, it didn’t matter. This wasn’t the first time that Boba’s armor was in his care, and that thought brought back all the warmth at full force. By the time Boba was down to his flight suit and boots, he felt a level of comfort that he normally wouldn’t when standing beside someone else who was still fully armed in full armor.</p><p>But this was Din. He was an exception to everything in Boba Fett’s life.</p><p>“Let me take care of you, too,” Boba offered.</p><p>Din nodded, and Boba had the impulse to take him by the hand and lead him to the bunk despite it being only a few steps away. He decided to give into the impulse, and found that Din was quick to lace his fingers with Boba’s as if this was exactly what was supposed to happen. They walked the short distance together, and Boba reached to the panel on the door to open it.</p><p>Just as he touched the button, Din shouted, “Wait!” right as a burst of loud, obnoxious Gungan Bubble Pop erupted through the ship. Din quickly tapped the controller on his right vambrace, and the music cut away.</p><p>From high above, Fennec’s voice echoed down, “What the <em>karking</em> hell, Fett!”</p><p>“Clearly, it works,” Boba said before he burst into laughter.</p><p>Din laughed, too, and commed an apology to Fennec before shutting the door. He said, “Sorry about that.” He hit the icon on the panel inside and he switched on the sound proofing. Instantly, the only thing Boba could hear was the hum of the ship. He reached for Boba, and Boba took his hand and moved closer. There was a purpose to being in this room. <em>Their</em> room.</p><p>“May I remove your helmet?” Boba asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Din said in a voice so soft, it was barely heard through the static.</p><p>Boba unhooked the clasps, and lifted it away revealing Din’s startlingly handsome face. His eyes were warm as a Tatooine sunset, and Boba could get lost in them if he stared too long. He forced himself to look away, to look at the helmet and inspect it for damage. There was none to be found, though he did use a soft cloth he had in his pocket to buff away a smudge before placing it in the cubby beside the bed. Din was smiling when he returned.</p><p>Before Boba could start on the pauldrons, the Mandalorian pulled him close and pressed their foreheads together. The warmth between them increased again, and Boba cupped Din’s face in his hands, causing him to shake at the sensation.</p><p>Din asked, “Did you mean what you called me today?”</p><p><em>Oh. </em>Boba had let that little endearment slip out like it was nothing. Had thought nothing about calling Din <em>cyar’ika</em>—beloved. Because, somehow, that’s what the Mandalorian was to him. Perhaps it was the combination of the touching and the quiet moments and the screaming together—all those things that Boba had not shared with anyone else. It was only a little while ago Boba accepted that Fennec was his friend, too. And yet he discovered that his heart, which he thought was cold and long dead, had room to care for more than just one person and in other ways.</p><p>“I did,” Boba said in a voice that was soft, but still loud in the perfectly silent room. “I do.”</p><p>“Is this because of the Darksaber?” Din asked with a tone that indicated there was definitely a wrong answer.</p><p>“I don’t give a kriff about the Darksaber,” Boba answered. He wasn’t even offended; he could understand considering everything.</p><p>Din nodded and his thumb started to rub along the edge of Boba’s jaw. “That’s a relief. Because I want you to stand beside me when I fight Bo-Katan.”</p><p>Up to that point, Din had not brought up the duel. He nodded. “Of course I’ll stand with you.” He smirked and added, “Your majesty.”</p><p>“When you say that, it makes me want to choke you,” Din said with a look and tone that indicated he was not lying. He asked, “Is that it, though? Me being king? <em>Mand’alor</em>?”</p><p>Boba answered, “No. Just my sense of humor.”</p><p>“You meant the things you told me, though. I know you did,” Din said in an almost accusatory way.</p><p>There was no need to play it off. “I was not joking when I said you would make an ideal leader of Mandalorians. I hold to that.”</p><p>“When did you—” He shook his head and tried again. “I know you didn’t really plan anything that happened the first night you stayed with me here. I know that. But the next night… You never made me <em>ask</em>.”</p><p>“I’m good at reading people,” Boba said with a shrug.</p><p>“You’re the only person who has ever touched me without my armor,” Din said, his eyes steady on Boba’s. “You’ve touched <em>me</em> more than anyone else, including someone I fucked for the better part of two years.”</p><p>Boba, because he didn’t know better, asked, “<em>How</em> does that work?”</p><p>“We didn’t even like each other,” Din answered as if that explained <em>anything</em>. It didn’t to someone whose entire experience with sex was questionable at best.</p><p>Boba knew his face displayed his confusion. “How does <em>that </em>work?”</p><p>Din, the orthodox Mandalorian, answered, “Unzip your fly, get it done. Move on.”</p><p>As if by force of their own will, Boba’s eyes gave Din—in full beskar sans helmet—a quick once over and somehow managed to keep any hint from appearing on his face that his mind had produced some fascinating images of the Mandalorian in ways he already regretted thinking about.</p><p>“That’s not the type of man you are, though,” Din said as he looked Boba over in a similar way. “I don’t think you’d like me to bend you over, get you off, and walk away.”</p><p><em>You could be wrong about that. You are right, but you could be wrong. Someday. </em>Boba could already feel the rest of his body becoming interested in what was happening.</p><p>Din said, “I want to take my time with you because I want to <em>touch</em> you and be touched <em>by</em> you. This morning—I wanted to stay in that room and never leave. Last night, I wanted—but you seemed afraid. Especially after I put that salve on you. I didn’t want to overstep, but I actually enjoyed that—smell and all. I liked doing that for you. I didn’t… Boba, I really want you to talk. Why aren’t you talking now?”</p><p>Boba cleared his throat and said, “I enjoyed that too. The salve.”</p><p>“You acted like you were terrified,” Din said in that flat tone he used sometimes when giving orders.</p><p>“I am unaccustomed to certain physiological reactions,” Boba answered the non-question with the same tone.</p><p>Din stared at him with a confused look.</p><p>Boba sighed and explained, “My cock was <em>hard</em> and I was surprised by it. I wasn’t <em>terrified</em>, I was <em>surprised</em>.”</p><p>“Does that not happen normally?” Din asked.</p><p><em>Why did I even </em>say<em> that? </em>Boba answered, “No.”</p><p>Din grinned and it was the most ridiculous expression Boba had ever seen on the man. He had absolutely no control over his face. Boba had to wonder what kind of silly things happened under that helmet over the years. Din said, “Until this morning, I didn’t realize I think of you that way.”</p><p>“What did you consider me before?” Boba asked. To dull the sudden sting he felt coming, he added, “Other than an asshole?”</p><p>“You are the only person I’ve met in the last standard year—maybe in my entire life—who hasn’t lied to me or tried to screw me over,” Din said with a smirk and a laugh that rang in their pocket of quiet. Boba loved the sound of his laughter, but he kept his face serious because he was surprised by what he was hearing. The Mandalorian continued, “Everyone always tries to get something out of me lately, something more than what they ask. And not you. You could have walked away after Tython, and I wouldn’t have blamed you. Why did you do all this for me?”</p><p>Boba had an answer for this. <em>We had an agreement.</em> That was the answer he gave Fennec. That was the answer he gave Din Djarin on Tython. But there was also the real answer, and it lay in his armor. Din had told him plenty of truths about himself, the raw and real things, that Boba knew he owed him that in this moment of all times.  </p><p>“It was because of how you treated my armor,” Boba said softly. Din’s eyes softened, and Boba felt the warmth building in him again. He said, “I know it had to have been badly damaged by the sarlacc. It took a beating before I fell into the beast. And from what I heard, it took a beating when you and Cobb Vanth fought the krayt.” He crossed his arms because he didn’t know what else to do with them. “But when I put on my helmet, everything worked as it was supposed to. The systems were all recently calibrated. The durasteel plate was reinforced and the beskar patched. The jetpack was fixed with replacement parts only a Mandalorian would use. Other than a paintjob and refitting it to new armorweave, I had nothing to fix, and I know it is because you took care of my armor as you would your own.”</p><p>Boba looked down at himself and tried to fight down the emotions that started to gather up in his throat. Din did this to him. He always did this to him. He took a breath and looked back at the Mandalorian. “My armor… It is my most prized possession. The only thing I have left of my father. This, and a piece of a console from the original <em>Slave I.</em> And you treated it with so much care, despite it being nothing to you but more beskar. I knew that whatever it was that happened to you, whatever brought you to that moment: you were honorable, and you had been greatly wronged. I felt it was my duty to help you in any way possible.”</p><p>“Do you feel obligated to me still?” Din asked.</p><p>“No,” Boba answered without hesitation. “I feel…” He tried to come up with the right way to say it. They were talking so much he was running out of words. “I feel things I don’t really understand when it comes to you, Din.”</p><p>The Mandalorian made a soft noise at the sound of his name.</p><p>“It made me happy when you said you wanted to stay on Tatooine,” Boba said, and somehow that thought brought his heartrate up. “Being by your side—that is what brings me the most peace. I could wake every sleep cycle beside you and be content. That is what I feel; not <em>obligated.</em>”</p><p>“Let me kiss you?” Din said in a soft, almost timid way.</p><p>Boba clumsily granted his request because he was tired of talking and tired of trying to form sentences. He knew he was absolutely shit at kissing. He knew this. He never kissed anyone. His desire for this activity came from reading a lot, watching others, and the sheer curiosity about what it might be like. Din, who never removed his helmet in front of other sentient beings nor removed his clothing for sex, had the exact same amount of experience.</p><p>There was nothing sensual about their first attempts, and they both knew it. They both laughed about it as they clacked teeth, bit and pinched lips in ways that were not sexy in the slightest, and more than a few times they returned to the Keldabe Kiss to take a break from the more traditional humanoid version that was failing them. When they tried again, they went a little slower with the initial nerves burned off. Boba realized how soft Din’s lips actually were and how he actually liked the texture of his facial hair against his face.</p><p>Being back in what Boba was tentatively referring to in his mind as their bed felt wonderful. The lights were dimmed down to 10%. The ship was humming the way it was supposed to be. Din had linked up his holopad and had some kind of mellow Mon Calamari sounding music was playing softly. And they were kissing as if the galaxy may collapse should they stop sharing air.</p><p>“Sex is not something I normally want,” Boba said to the dark as he caught his breath.</p><p>The Mandalorian was braced up over him, and he ran a thumb across Boba’s bottom lip. “Is it something you want right now?”</p><p>Boba felt his entire body tingle at the question. He answered, “Yes.”</p><p>Din smiled and said, “Then I hope I don’t kark this up.”</p><p>They both laughed at that before more kisses silenced them again.</p><p>Boba, after hearing Din talk about his quick and almost businesslike approach to sex, expected the Mandalorian to treat their encounter the same way. But that was not the case at all. Instead Boba found himself the central focus of someone who wanted nothing more than to explore how many ways he could cause him to moan as if he was <em>really</em> testing the soundproofing.</p><p>By the time they finished, Boba knew two things: he wanted to do that a seventh time, and he needed to just accept that he was probably in love. But that was fine because Din likely was too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Fun in the Suns of Tatooine, and Boba shows who's king.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Battleground, Table for One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trigger Warnings: CHILD ABUSE, DRUG ABUSE, SLAVERY, PTSD</p><p>Look, this chapter has BAD THINGS in it. This is not for the faint of heart. If you are triggered by this shit, don't bother. I'm working on the next chapter. It's coming.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For real, this chapter was not supposed to exist but it exists because I realized that the previous chapter of NIGHTMARES got over edited, and I edited out something that wasn't supposed to be edited. So......Here's another chapter in SPACE!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The alarm sounded to signal the end of the sleep cycle and Boba Fett had the distinct desire to ignore it in favor of staying where he was, spooned up against Din with the Mandalorian’s arm around his waist. But there were things that needed to be done. Maintenance checks, calibrations—all the little things that kept the ship moving. But <em>gods</em> it was easy to fall back into bed with just a nudge. No coaxing. At all.</p><p>Boba, for the first time in his entire life, was late doing a maintenance check. There was a ledger for this on his holopad. At first, he found the fact that he was twelve minutes later than normal calibrating the hyperdrive thrusters—which didn’t need to be done—to be something that deserved to be annoyed over. He did not want anything to distract him. That was the whole reason relationships were discouraged. Or not <em>discouraged</em> so much as outright forbidden.</p><p><em>This is why</em>, Boba thought as he started to laugh.</p><p>Din, who was standing nearby holding his helmet while eating a ration bar, asked, “What’s so funny?”</p><p>Boba closed the panel and said, “I realized I was beating myself up over a twelve-minute delay.”</p><p>“Whose schedule are you on?” Din asked with a smirk.</p><p>“That is a good question.” Boba didn’t want to say a dead man’s who wouldn’t know how to operate most of the ship’s equipment anyway. “I decided to laugh at myself instead.”</p><p>Din, who had no problem being a brat, said, “I get the feeling you’re feeling a little distracted after last sleep cycle.”</p><p>“We didn’t sleep much,” Boba mumbled, but the helmet picked it up fine.</p><p>“Maybe we should fix that,” Din suggested before taking another bite of his ration. He chewed and swallowed, somehow making that activity a distraction. “I looked over some of the weapons we grabbed from the lab I almost broke the scope on a blaster pistol putting it on backwards. I think I need more sleep.”</p><p>Boba closed the casing and leaned against the wall, watching as Din put his helmet back in place and fed the ration packaging into the nearby disposal. Then he walked to Boba and pulled him close and pressed their helmets together as Boba put his arms around the Mandalorian’s waist. The warmth between them felt like sunlight—not the kind that burns, but the kind that feels welcome after a long, cold night.</p><p><em>This feels like heaven.</em> Boba felt up Din’s sides, along the places beskar did not cover, and Din seemed to arch into the touch.</p><p>Then the moment was broken by Eil sliding down the ladder and turning around holding a gimer twig and an extractor. The Twi’lek looked at the two of them then glanced down at the items in his hand and said, “I’ll just go to my bunk.”</p><p>He departed quickly, and Din’s body shook with suppressed laughter when Boba said, “I’m sure its medicinal.”</p><p>By the fourth standard day, when they were halfway to Tatooine, everyone on board <em>Slave I</em> had at one time or another encountered the two in a moment. The only one who caught something more than what Dune labeled their “cute” head-butts was Fennec, who entered the workroom at the wrong time and immediately left, though she did give Boba a fist bump when she saw him next.</p><p>They were becoming sentimental.</p><p>“I’m glad I found your armor,” Din told him once when they were holding in such a way that every inch of skin that could touch was touching. It was something they both craved—all that touch.</p><p>“I’m glad I found it when I did,” Boba said with a chuckle. Din glared at him. Boba dug his fingers into Din’s hair and the Mandalorian let out a soft sound and Boba said, “I’m sorry about your ship, <em>cyar’ika.</em>”</p><p>“You’re right, though,” Din said. “It all worked in the end.”</p><p>“Yes.” Boba was certain that on some strange cosmic level, he and Din Djarin were supposed to meet and they were supposed to be together. Whether “together” meant in the variety of positions they’d tested over the last several standard days was another subject. That the cosmos aligned that their paths would cross in such a way that they would be here… Boba was convinced he won on that one. No matter what happened in the future, he would be able to remember this bliss as a bonus to the friendship that he valued far more still.</p><p>They sparred together. Din with his beskar spear and Boba with his gaffi stick. The others watched at a safe distance, convinced one or the other was going to either damage the ship or the other. Dune thought there had been an argument. There was no argument. Eil was convinced it was some sort of foreplay. Fennec agreed.</p><p>It started with a joke. Boba pointed out that he had basically replaced his daily exercises with sex—something that Din had to agree he was guilty of, too. Mandalorians, seeming across all variations, value their daily katas. Then Din asked about the way he moved with the gaffi stick. The Mandalorian had a habit of flirting via compliments like, “You show aggressive control with your hands, Boba.”</p><p>“You’ve watched me,” Boba said, surprised. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he realized. It was a small ship, and they’ve travelled many standard weeks together.</p><p><em>Aggressive control</em>. That went straight to Boba’s soul. It didn’t stop him from giving his all when it came to sparring. Din was a good fighter, and he was more than proficient in pole arms. The way he used his entire body to fight was impressive. Elegant. Boba fought as Din said: with controlled aggression. While Din was taller, Boba was thicker with muscle. He didn’t use his muscles for force, but for control. Every move, every strike had purpose.</p><p>When it came to the actual sparring, that aggressive control and Din’s whole body method of fighting made for a great way to work up a good sweat and get blood pumping. Boba noticed how he left his right side open and dove in to swat him on the beskar skid plate.</p><p>“Tsk-tsk, <em>cyare</em>,” Boba said.</p><p>He could feel the glare through Din’s helmet. They tap their weapons again and took their positions. Boba never stopped moving, his hands operating on muscle memory developed over years of training. He waited, watching for the sign that Din was about to strike. When he did, they were both full force. Each motion was countered like sand on the wind. There was flow to their movements. Boba had the feeling that had they actually decided to fight each other, it would end in a draw or mutual destruction.</p><p>This thought went through his head, and a moment later he was on his back looking up the ladder to the cockpit, where Fennec was looking down at him. He laughed because that was all he could do.</p><p>Din stood over him and said, “Tsk-tsk, <em>cyar’ika.</em>”</p><p>Boba rolled up to his feet, and Din met him with a head-butt.</p><p>Later when gathered for a crew game of sabacc, Eil asked, “What exactly will happen when we get to Tatooine? I’ve heard vague things and overheard a couple conversations. But I do worry I am about to be in the middle of a firefight, and I am the opposite of a fighter—unlike apparently all of you.”</p><p>“You’ll stay on the ship,” Boba said as he shuffled the deck. “This ship has a lot of safety precautions.”</p><p>“And what if none of you return?” Eil asked.</p><p>“We have a small army greeting us at the edge of Tatooine space,” Fennec said. “That was part of what I negotiated on Dantooine. Those who join us also gain the bonus of Boba Fett’s skills with removing chips.”</p><p>“Thank you for that, by the way,” Eil said with a nod.</p><p>“No problem. You have first bet, by the way Doc.” Boba frowned at his cards.</p><p>Dune took a sip of spotchka and said, “You are the worst kriffing dealer, Fett.”</p><p>“I meant to give <em>you</em> a shitty hand and not myself,” Boba said with a huff.</p><p>Dune asked, “What does the chip removal have to do with anything? Is that really a perk?”</p><p>“Free people tend to be happier than people who are not,” Boba said.</p><p>“No, I mean…” Dune waved her hand and said, “What’s the purpose of the chips? I guess I don’t know much about the slave trade.”</p><p>“People who are slaves have chips implanted in them that mark them as property of a certain person, company, or government,” Eil said smoothly. “In my case, mine was implanted in my cerebral nerve bundle. They tend to place it somewhere that is uncomfortable or unsafe to remove without the right tools and the knowhow.”</p><p>“That’s kriffing messed up,” Dune said with frown.</p><p>Fennec pulled down the neck of her under suit to show the scar. “I had mine taken out when I was in my early 20s in a back alley in Canto Bight. I had seizures for two years after because he did such a hack job of it.”</p><p>“<em>Dank farrik,</em> Fenn,” Dune said, all her violently protective nature on display.</p><p>Boba had to wonder how much people who grew up in the Core worlds heard about the things that happened in the darker side of the galaxy. Blowing up an entire planet is about as extreme as it gets, but there’s day to day atrocities that go ignored that have destroyed far more lives.</p><p>“Where did you get your training, Fett?” Dune asked as she tossed out her bet.</p><p>“For what?” he asked as he tossed his cards on the pile. “This hand is cursed.”</p><p>“The chip thing,” she clarified.</p><p>“A man named Fenn Shysa,” Boba answered. He shrugged. “He was a Mandalorian working to un-chip the Mandos on Concordia during the occupation.”</p><p>“This the same one you think I’d like to meet?” Din asked.</p><p>“Yes.” Boba fidgeted with his sabacc chips and said, “<em>If</em> he’s still alive. He’s been leading a covert of Mandos since before the war started. And considering he’s no fan of Bo-Katan, we already have plenty in common.”</p><p>“Are all Mandalorians like you two?” Dune asked, frowning at Din’s bet. “And has Boba been teaching you to play? What is this kriff?”</p><p>Din asked, “What do you mean?”</p><p>Dune looked at him and said, “You two are the most intense individuals I’ve ever met in my karking life and you just bet a hundred credits. You’re a karking prick.”</p><p>Fennec snorted. “Oh kriff, you should have known Boba <em>before</em>.”</p><p>“Was I that bad?” Boba asked.</p><p>“I remember watching you sit without moving a damned muscle and watch a guy get eviscerated,” Fennec said with something like admiration.</p><p>Dune’s eyes went wide. “<em>Dank karking farrik, </em>Fett.”</p><p>“He had it coming,” was what Boba had to say about it. “I did that job for free then spent a week blitzed out on spice to forget the worst of it.”</p><p>“Gods, Fett!” Dune almost looked like she was going to leap out of her seat.  </p><p>Eil laughed. “Are you going to tell me you’ve never touched the galaxies many illicit substances, <em>ma sareene?</em>”</p><p>“Sometimes you need to leave the galaxy for a while,” Fennec said with a shrug.</p><p>“I guess I just… I don’t know…” Dune looked at Din for back up.</p><p>Din said, “I’ve spent my fair amount of time sitting in my pilot’s chair high on spice watching hyperspace fly by.” He shrugged. “You get a tough job, sometimes it takes more than a couple glasses of alc to get it out of your system.”</p><p>Eil nodded. “This is the truth.”</p><p>“I figured you’d have a different view, considering,” Dune said as delicately as she could.</p><p>“I have spent the last twelve years passed from one owner to the next for my knowledge,” Eil said with a nonchalance Boba suspected came from the gimer twig. “If it wasn’t for the drugs, I wouldn’t be here. Spice makes many things nice, as they say.”</p><p>Dune looked uncomfortable.</p><p>Boba said, “We all talk very casually about these things, I know. It’s easy to forget that this isn’t everyday life for everyone in the galaxy.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Dune said with a sigh. She seemed to relax. “It’s like when people realize I’m Alderaani. I’m sorry. It’s dumb. I get it. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. I just…I don’t know.” Her eyes glistened as she said, “I think I’m afraid I’ll forget, you know? All I have left of Alderaan are memories.”</p><p>Boba kicked Fennec’s boot, and Fennec put her arm around Dune’s broad shoulders. Predictably, she sniffled and swore she was fine, but she still looked a little less wounded.</p><p>“I won that hand, by the way,” Fennec announced as she lay down her cards.</p><p>Din started sorting the deck to get the cards facing the right way to shuffle because Fennec tended to toss her cards any which way. When he started to deal, he said, “I’ve considered returning to Aq Vetina. I am curious what it would be like.”</p><p>Boba looked at him as he started twirling one of his sabacc chips across his knuckles. “That would be interesting. I want to know the source of your accent.”</p><p>“I know the source of yours,” Din said, and Boba could almost hear the smile. “You sound just like the ones who are born into the covert. I can tell <em>Mando’a</em> is your first language.”</p><p>Boba could feel his face growing warm under the helmet. Of course Din would notice these things. “My home world is Kamino, but going there would be useless unless I want to see empty vitrines.”</p><p>Fennec smiled in that way that Boba knew had nothing to do with being happy. “I was born on a cargo ship. I don’t have a home planet.”</p><p>“On this, you and I have something in common,” Eil said. “My mother was a ship’s consort. My home is the trade route between Ryloth and Corellia. I lived on that same ship until I was of age, and that’s where I met my wife.” He got a distant look in his eyes and said, “She was so beautiful—even by my people’s standards, which is saying something. Her name was Gida. She would have adored all of you—and likely tried to fight Dune at least once.”</p><p>Dune laughed at that. “Sounds like she was an amazing gal.”</p><p>“She was,” Eil said with a nod. “Thank you for letting me speak of her.”</p><p>“We’ve all survived karked up things,” Boba said in a way that was possibly the nicest he’d ever spoken to the group. There was no sarcasm in his tone. “I’ve learned sometimes the best thing to do is talk about the karked up things with people who understand. Reminds you it’s okay to feel things other than hate because others feel the same things.”</p><p>Almost simultaneously, Din’s knee pressed against Boba’s and a boot that he suspected was Fennec’s tapped against his toe. Boba wanted to tell them both to piss off, but he was conflicted by the fact that he made no secret that he valued their friendship fiercely.</p><p>Dune cleared her throat and said, “You’re kind of a sap after getting to know you, Fett.”</p><p>Boba laughed at that and the others joined. They continued playing until the timer sounded for maintenance checks, which was the sign that their overlapping time had ended. Fennec went up to the cockpit to run her diagnostics—something Boba reluctantly passed off to her. Dune spent time in the crew area alone working out and doing her own weapons checks. Eil went to the lower viewport to watch hyperspace while high. Din went to the workroom to operate on one of his blasters. Boba headed down to the engine room.</p><p>Things that work without a hitch only need one thing to get out of alignment for the system to fall apart. This is true of just about everything that Boba has encountered. Any potential malfunctions were caught early through routine checks, as Jango Fett taught him—even if he’d adjusted the terms of late. Nothing seemed all that out of the ordinary. Not even when Din found him in the engine room and pressed him against the wall. Now thoroughly familiar with Boba’s armor, he knew exactly where he could slip a hand to find skin.</p><p>“<em>I think I’m a little addicted to you, Boba</em>,” Din said through their private comm in his deep smooth voice. “<em>I know we’re supposed to head to bed soon, but I can’t stop thinking about having you right here.</em>”</p><p>Everything in Boba’s body was interested in what was happening. He liked the feel of the beskar, the strength in Din as he gripped his hips and pressed the hard line of his cock against Boba’s ass. Boba let out a ragged sound that came out through his helmet and he was suddenly thankful the engine room was so damned noisy.</p><p>Then Din said, “<em>Don’t worry, Boba; no one’s gonna hear the sounds we make.”</em></p><p>Boba felt like someone had poured ice down his back.</p><p><em>Don’t think about that. Not now. <strong>Not. Now.</strong></em> Boba opened his eyes and focused on what he could see. At first it was just the gridded casing of the hyperdrive interface, which somehow didn’t look too different from the laundry room at the—<em>NO. Not now. Beskar. Din. I’m on Slave I. </em></p><p>Boba started to turn, but Din had his arm around his chest and one hand was down his pants. A moment ago that was <em>fine</em>. Not only <em>fine</em> but <em>welcome</em>. And Boba was having trouble finding his voice because he did not want to stop but he <em>needed</em> to stop because his heart was pounding and his chest was tight. Adrenaline was starting to flow and suddenly Boba shouted out, “Stop!”</p><p>Din immediately had his hands up, palms out. There wasn’t much space to go, but he made sure there was as much room as possible. Despite the fact that Boba had his flamethrower primed and aimed at him, his voice was calm as he said, “What is happening right now?”</p><p>“Get away from me,” Boba snapped back because his chest felt tight. He tried to focus on his breathing. He didn’t remember priming the flamethrower.</p><p>“Boba—” Din started, but Boba’s wrist twitched in the direction that would set off the weapon. Din said, “Okay.”</p><p>The Mandalorian backed as far as he could, moving in such a way that he kept his hands visible. But he was blocking the exit and it caused a new spike of <em>something</em> flood into Boba’s blood. He wasn’t sure what was happening. His chest was tight and his arms were numb. His head felt light and his heart pounded. He gave his head a violent shake.</p><p>“What is happening?” Din asked, his hand beginning to reach.</p><p>“I’ll rip your damned hand off you if you touch me,” Boba snapped. His ears were ringing. He was certain he was about to pass out. To fight it, he slammed his fist into the bulkhead, and shouted, “Leave! Now!”</p><p>Though it was clearly with hesitation, Din left.</p><p>There was no relief in solitude. Instead, Boba felt <em>panic</em> slam into him full force.</p><p>He stared down at the flamethrower and switched it off in mild terror. He started to remove it, but realized when he tried to apply any force that he must have broken some fingers when he slammed his fist into the wall. His breath was still coming in panicked bursts as he started to fully realize everything that just happened in this small space.</p><p>Boba dropped to floor and wished he were alone. Throwing everyone out the airlock didn’t seem like a good idea, though. In about an hour he would have a throbbing hand and need to explain himself. He had no idea how to explain that he forgot for a moment that he was a 41 year old man in his own ship and had spent the last few days acting like a gundark during mating season, and instead fought off his lover like he wanted to fight off grown men when he was 12 years old because Din accidentally said what they said to him.</p><p>
  <em>No one will ever hear you.</em>
</p><p>It was a close call to get his helmet off before Boba vomited on the floor. </p><p><em>I’ll have to clean that.</em> It was an almost mechanical reaction. Clean the ship. Messy ships were a hazard, so Boba cleaned. Then he found reasons to stay down in the engine room until his hand hurt too much to keep working and he realized it was going to be a real pain in the ass to get back up the ladder. He was not all that surprised to find Fennec sitting on the floor to the side of where the ladder comes out in the workroom. She had a bottle of spotchka sitting in her lap and gave him a wary look.</p><p>“You’ve been down there for four standard hours and there’s been an exceptionally quiet Mandalorian up in the crew room cleaning all of his weapons.” Fennec held out the bottle towards him, and when he halfheartedly waved her off, she said, “Talk to me, Fett.”</p><p>“No,” he growled as he pulled himself up out of the hole onto the floor.</p><p>She took a drink and said, “Fine. But you’re going to sit with me until you’re actually fine.”</p><p>Boba cradled his broken hand in his lap and said, “I need to get the medikit.”</p><p>“That’s in the crew quarters,” Fennec said.</p><p>“It’s my karking ship, Shand; I know where the karking medikit is,” Boba snipped.</p><p>Fennec regarded him for a moment, then said, “I’ll go up and get the kit if you tell me what the kriff happened.”</p><p>“A bunch of kriff that has nothing to do with what is happening today,” Boba said as he leaned against the wall, his helmet meeting with a clang. “My mind drifted. That is all. I will talk to Din. I know that is why you’re here.”</p><p>“I’m here because of you,” Fennec said with a sincerity she usually only used when informing someone they were about to die.</p><p>Boba said, “I just remembered something I’d forgotten from long ago, and… I reacted. Badly.”</p><p>Fennec nodded and took a drink. They sat in silence for a while as different emotions played across her face. Boba knew the things that she experienced. He knew that should he unburden his soul to her, she would understand. He also knew she had enough burdens without his.</p><p>“We’ve survived karked up things,” Fennec said with a solemn tone. “Sometimes the sore spots get poked. I get it.”</p><p>“I know you do.” He tried to move the fingers of his right hand and winced. “I’m pretty sure I broke a couple knuckles.”</p><p>“Aren’t you the one always talking about pointless extra bacta treatments?” Fennec said as she stood. He huffed a laugh and she held out her hand to hoist him off the floor. She started up the ladder to the crew quarters and Boba followed slowly, taking each rung with a focused motion using only one arm.</p><p>When he arrived at the top, he saw Din standing by the medic cabinet and Fennec giving him a narrow-eyed look.</p><p>Boba said, “Go on, Fennec.”</p><p>She headed up to the crew area, and Din opened the cabinet door to retrieve the medikit. He said in a neutral tone, “I was told you need this.”</p><p>“Yes,” Boba said as he started to remove his right vambrace.</p><p>Din set the medikit down and asked, “Will you let me help you?”</p><p><em>I can handle my own injuries. </em>Boba ignored the voice in his head, and said, “Yes.”</p><p>Boba expected him to be angry. Or at least impatient. Instead, the Mandalorian was delicate in the way he handled Boba’s injured hand. He took over the armor removal and disengaged the clasps on the vambrace. He made sure to hold Boba’s wrist to keep from causing any undo motion as he set the piece aside. Then he felt along the hand until Boba reacted.</p><p>“I may have to cut away the glove because there’s so much swelling,” Din said as he opened the kit to retrieve the scanner. With the helmet, he did not give away as much, but Boba could tell that he was fidgeting as he handled the tools. “Looks like you’ve broken two fingers and sprained your wrist. I think a couple bacta shots and a bone regenerator will fix this. Are you okay with me giving you those?”</p><p>“Yes,” Boba answered. The Mandalorian cut away the glove, then picked up the gun. He loaded it with the bacta and bone cartridges, and carefully lined up the shots to where they would be most effective. Bacta always felt strange entering the system and left a strange taste in Boba’s mouth. Din continued to hold his hand after administering the shots.</p><p>“Do shots like this irritate your skin?” Din asked softly, his helmet barely picking it up.</p><p>“It’s kind of numb right now,” Boba said. Everything felt kind of numb.</p><p>Din scanned his hand again, and said, “The bones are setting nice.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Boba said.</p><p>Din set the scanner aside. “You don’t need to apologize, Boba. I just want to know what happened. You don’t even need to tell me why it happened. Tell me how I karked up so I don’t do it again.”</p><p>“You did nothing wrong,” Boba said as he pulled his hand away. Boba felt the loss of the closeness between them, and worse was knowing he caused it. Compounding it was how strongly he desired the comfort of touch now that the sudden onset of fear was gone. The thought that may never be part of their relationship again felt like a loss now.</p><p>The Mandalorian was not convinced and not swayed. “Boba, you had your flamethrower readied like I was your <em>enemy</em>. I did something very wrong. Or I have done many things wrong for many days and you simply let me do it. Regardless, I need to understand so that I can fix it.”</p><p>“It’s that simple, huh?” Boba said in a tone that was borderline aggressive.</p><p>“Why can’t it be?” Din said calmly.</p><p>“Because I’m not even sure why it happened,” Boba almost shouted as he stood and began to pace.</p><p>Din watched him from where he leaned against the counter.</p><p>From up above, Dune burst into a fit of hearty laughter followed by Eil, and Boba said, “We will talk in private. Not here.”</p><p>“Okay,” Din said with a nod.</p><p>Boba walked to the bunk and did not bother with removing his armor. He didn’t want to be without it at that moment. Din went ahead and removed his helmet and upper body armor, doing so outside the bunk and placing it in its usual place in the locker. Boba didn’t watch him as he often did. Then he entered and closed the door. Boba glanced up and could see that neither the lock nor the soundproofing was engaged.</p><p>“Turn it on,” Boba said in a voice that made it sound more an order than a request. Din’s face remained neutral, and having learned so many of his facial expressions and his complete inability to hide his emotions, Boba knew he had Din’s full attention. It was almost too much. Boba looked away as the lock and sound shield engaged.</p><p>“You did nothing wrong,” Boba said. He was still looking away from Din, and he shut off all the extra sensors so the only thing he could see was out of the primary view of his helmet. He didn’t want to see what Din was thinking right now.</p><p>The fingers of his injured hand twitched to make a fist and he hissed. Boba closed his eyes and tried to focus on the sound of the hyperdrive. It had a rhythm that had been in his blood and soothing him since he was a baby. He took a few breaths and said, “I’ve never told anyone about what happened to me when I was in prison on Coruscant.” He took a slow, deep breath. “I would have been elbow high on myself when I was tossed in there.”</p><p>“<em>Dank farrik,</em>” Din said, only audible because of the sensors on Boba’s helmet; anyone else would have heard a breath.</p><p>“I tried to kill the Jedi that killed my father,” Boba said. He could feel Din’s movement. No doubt that was a surprise by now. “I know I didn’t tell you that. I wanted you to have a good opinion of the Jedi because I know for some, they do good. And I’m sure they’ll do right by your boy because that’s who they care about—their own.” He ground his teeth a moment before continuing. “But that’s why I went to prison. I tried to kill the Jedi who killed my father in front of me. I was unsuccessful, the Jedi Order sent me to prison. There wasn’t even a trial.”</p><p>Boba could not forget seeing Mace Windu up close again. The stoic look on his face as Boba shouted that he deserved justice for his father, that he would <em>never forgive</em> the Jedi, and Windu looked down at him without a hint of so-called Jedi compassion and said, “<em>You’re going to have to.</em>”</p><p>“They sent me to that place,” Boba shook his head. “Back then, I thought I was tough. I thought I knew how bad the world could get because I’d been running with bounty hunters. I took down one of those late Republic cruisers on my own. I felt like a bad ass.” He looked down at his hands. “But I’d never been in a place like that. I didn’t know…” He felt his chest growing tight. “I didn’t know people did that to kids. And I… Sometimes I was able to fight them off. I got good at fighting and hiding. But…” He huffed something that sounded like a laugh. “Not always though. And they were right—no one could hear me. Or if they did, no one cared.”</p><p>He was quiet a moment, and then said, “I can’t explain why I did what I did in the engine room. I just reacted. And it was not—I should not have reacted that way. I was foolish. I know you were not going to hurt me, and I—” His heart seemed to be about to break out of his chest with as hard as it pounded against his ribs. “I <em>attacked</em> you.”</p><p>Boba suddenly felt the jarring in his shoulder and looked at how his knee was subtly jumping. He had to focus to stop his knee from shaking. He finally looked at Din and saw the redness of his eyes. He looked…sad. In a voice that came out far harsher than he intended, Boba said, “Do not pity me, Mandalorian.”</p><p>“I would not insult you with pity,” Din said. His hands fidgeted in his lap and there was something else in his eyes that Boba knew was anger. And while Boba may be in a state of heightened emotions, he knew it was not directed at him. Din’s hand started to wrap up in the blanket as his face grew more clouded each time he opened his mouth. Then he released the blanket and said, “I understand now. Anything else I would say would not be useful.”</p><p>“Speak your mind,” Boba demanded.</p><p>Din’s jaw tensed then he said, “I am angry, but not at you. That is why it is not useful to talk about.”</p><p>Boba could imagine the things the Mandalorian was thinking, punishments to be visited on those who were long dead. That is what Boba would think should someone he loves tell him such things. And Din was the type to tear apart the galaxy to right the wrongs he found. Boba always knew he did not want to be Din’s enemy. He was still getting used to the idea of being someone the Mandalorian cared about. It wasn’t until now that he realized how significant that was.</p><p>He looked down at his hand. It didn’t hurt despite the abuse. The bacta treatment had been effective. He had the strong desire to cry, though he couldn’t seem to produce tears. He thought about the warmth that he felt in the past few weeks with Din at his side; he felt so cold now.</p><p>A distant voice reminded him that he would never feel this if he did not allow people to get close. No one would have dared to touch him as Din did <em>before</em>. There was a <em>before </em>and an <em>after </em>defined by the sarlacc, and try as he might, Boba seemed to trip over new segments of <em>before </em>all the damned time with Din around. He flexed his fingers, finding only residual soreness. Then, because he was no good at asking for what he wanted, let alone what he needed, Boba reached towards Din.</p><p>Tears happened of their own volition when the Mandalorian took his hand into both of his.</p><p>They sat there like that for a while until Din asked, “What do I need to do?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Boba said so soft, it barely came out. “I have never been here before.”</p><p>“Will you trust me to help you through it?” Din asked.</p><p>Boba felt something inside him break. <em>I trust you completely, despite any evidence to the contrary. I know I am safe with you. I am a fool. I feel shame. Please forget everything I told you.</em> He could not say any of that, so he nodded once.</p><p>“Will you sleep beside me?” Din asked.</p><p>Boba looked at him. “I don’t think I’m going to be the company you’ve grown used to.”</p><p>Din looked like he wanted to shake Boba. He said, “I don’t care about any of that.”</p><p>Boba asked, “You don’t?”</p><p>“No,” Din said. “My favorite thing about you is laying beside you and listening to you talk.”</p><p>“I don’t feel like talking so much now,” Boba said. “And you always fall asleep anyway.”</p><p>“I’m still listening,” Din said, a small smile on his face.</p><p><em>How do you exist? How am I here? </em>Boba sighed heavy and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I am very tired.”</p><p>“Bacta injections do that to me,” Din said, a gentle out offered and Boba recognized it. “I am going to take off the rest of my armor.”</p><p>“I’ll be back,” Boba said as he stood and opened the door to go to the rack where he stored his armor. He did not take off his helmet, but the rest was removed with almost mechanical efficiency. Inside the bunk was a second storage space where he could store the helmet after the lights were lowered. He decided to go ahead and get in the fresher for a quick sonic shower to wash off the scent of stress sweat. It was bad enough when he smelled it on a bounty, but far worse when it came from himself.</p><p>Dressed in a fresh shirt and trousers, he returned to the bunk to find Din pressed up against the back wall, listening to mellow instrumental music, looking just as comfortable in his flight suit as he did when naked. Perhaps more so.</p><p>Din gave a small smile. “Join me?”</p><p>Boba dropped the lights down to 10% and removed his helmet, but when Boba lay down, he kept his back to Din. His eyes still did not want to stop flowing, and somehow despite both of them wearing as many layers as they did their first night together when they shared a bed only in the name of comfort, Boba felt far more naked.</p><p>On some level, Boba wished that Din would close the distance. At the same time he knew that Din would not unless he was told explicitly to do so.</p><p>Din did not force his way into Boba’s space. Rather, he stayed in place until Boba made up his mind to come close enough and to reach behind to find Din’s hand. The relief he felt at the easy way Din’s fingers entangled his and gave a soft squeeze was…surprising. He had to focus to not completely fall apart from such a small gesture.</p><p>“I was unprepared for this,” Boba said in a soft, but level voice. He could sense Din begin to interpret his words, feel the way he breathed in, and Boba stopped him. “I am not used to being around people who know me like you do. When…” He shivered as thoughts of the last few nights ran through his mind, even as he felt the draw of the warmth of the man behind him. “When you and I… I never imagined a scenario where I would freely give permission to someone to touch me as I did you. I didn’t even consider that it might… remind me of things I—”  </p><p>His voice seemed to click off, and Boba swallowed back the swell of emotion that drowned him out.</p><p>Din’s forehead pressed against the back of his skull, and Boba just quit fighting. It was dark, he was facing away, and he felt safe in the depths of his soul to let a few tears fall in silence for the echoes of nightmares of the past. He melted against the Mandalorian even as he covered his face. The strong arms around him were a comfort he would never deny himself when it was so freely given, even if he would forever wonder how he ended up in such a position.</p><p>The Mandalorian stayed quiet, as tended to be his way. While he could talk at great lengths when the mood struck, he seemed more comfortable expressing things through his actions. Boba could see no flaw in his actions. Even as they lay together, their closeness was not on Din’s terms, but on his. He did not do anything without asking. He didn’t ask for any explanations for Boba’s behavior other than to make sure he did not make the same mistake again. Boba didn’t know what it was he felt, but the warmth inside of him increased.</p><p>By the time Boba again found control of his tear ducts, he had repositioned himself with his face buried in the Mandalorian’s chest, and Din was massaging the base of his skull. He let out an involuntary hum of contentment.</p><p>“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Din said softly, and Boba sighed at the vibration of his voice in his chest against his ear.</p><p>He nodded. “Too bad you can’t pull my hair.”</p><p>Din chuckled at that. “What was your hair like?”</p><p>“Black. Thick. A little curly if I let it get too long,” Boba answered. He sighed. “I need a drink.”</p><p>Din gave him a squeeze and said, “While you were in the fresher, I grabbed…things.” He reached to the small locker above the bed, opened it, and pulled out a large water canteen and a handful of ration bars that fell out without ceremony.</p><p>Boba sat up and picked up a green ration bar. “You picked up food and water for us.”</p><p>“I have to take care of you,” Din said as he poured water into one of the canteen’s cups.</p><p>Boba drank down the water in one go, and said, “No, you don’t. You could walk away from me on Tatooine and not bother with this. And not one person, not even I would be upset with you. Not after what I did. I would give you whatever you needed, and you could go. I would be glad to have known you, and I would keep my word to be at your side with Bo-Katan. But you don’t need to—”</p><p>“I will stay with you on Tatooine until you tell me to leave,” Din said, not really acknowledging Boba giving him a free exit. Boba stared at him. Din said, “And regardless of the outcome of this duel with Bo-Katan, you and I will decide together what happens next. Unless if by then you’ve gotten tired of me, <em>cyar’ika.</em>”</p><p>“You like to plan ahead,” Boba said with a growing smile.</p><p>“My only plan is right here,” he said with a nudge to Boba’s shoulder. A moment later, Boba’s stomach growled audibly. Din said, “Eat.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No really, next time Tatooine is happening y'all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. What Makes A Mandalorian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So. This is fluffy.</p><p>I'm late with posting this and I'm sorry if you've been breathless in anticipation. I'm a teacher and life is hectic with the pandemic, and you may notice that this chapter is A FRIGGING MONSTER. I tried to split it up. I really did. I don't know what happened here. Seriously, my ADHD went into overdrive here, and I don't have anyone to tell me to STOP IT. </p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tatooine is nobody’s dreamland, but dammit, Boba was glad to be back. Something about this forsaken shithole felt like it was part of his soul now. Maybe that was just a year long trip on sarlacc acid talking. Regardless, with the hot wind blowing in his face as the twin suns set over the horizon, Boba felt right at home.</p><p>He was fairly certain that Jabbas’s Palace had never been so full of people who were not in some way in servitude to the Hutts, either, which may also account for his overall excellent mood as he stood on the upper battlements. Music drifted up from what was turning into a massive festival outside the palace walls. The festival was to celebrate a multitude of things: the end of Hutt rule, the end of slavery on Tatooine, and finally a massive trade deal.</p><p>It all happened so <em>fast</em>, he barely had time to really appreciate how well everything came together.</p><p>After some persuasion and a little bit of amusement on Din’s part, Boba was given the title of Planetary Administrator for Tatooine. That was never part of the plan. Underworld kingpin, sure. Planetary Administrator? No.</p><p>But the title was his, along with endless daily meetings with local townspeople, newly elected city officials, and representatives from different groups who were suddenly finding themselves free for the first time <em>ever</em>. There were already projects underway to improve the infrastructure in Mos Espa. A new Administrator of Water was appointed, a community leader who was recommended from the people. Boba assigned guards to her and her family to make sure there were no attempts on her life, as there were still a few Hutt loyalists causing issues in the city.</p><p>Mos Eisley, though once an outpost with a reputation for vice and villainy, was now a hub of the New Republic. This was something that Boba did not ask for. Rather, it was something that <em>they </em>asked for. Specifically, he received a message from the New Republic Council of Outer Rim Services, which is headed by none other than Leia Organa. The message was not from her, but from another senator representing Ryloth. It was a simple message saying that they had observers on the planet, and they approved of the actions taken and wished to offer aid.</p><p>When Boba viewed the message with his advisors, which consisted of Din, Fennec, Dune, and three Tatooinians representing Mos Espa, two from Mos Eisley, and one from Mos Pelgos.</p><p>“The Republic never did much for us,” one human representative from Mos Espa said. He was an old man, skin aged by the desert to leather, his eyes shining out from under deep wrinkled eyelids. “And they left us to the corporations when the Empire fell. Kind of left me with a bad taste in my mouth.”</p><p>Dune started to respond, but Din held up his hand and nodded to Peli Motto—one of the Mos Eisley reps.</p><p>“I think they can’t hurt,” she said with a shrug. “I know things have improved, and you know I love you Mandos and all the coin coming to the ports. But that doesn’t change that where the New Republic goes, the credits follow. Besides, I’m seeing more and more mind-wiped slaves around. The only way to get them back to where they belong is to get them scanned.”</p><p>Boba said, “There’s also the fact that some of those former slaves might be on wanted lists, and I don’t think it’s fair to send them from this shithole into a prison.”</p><p>“I agree,” Din said without hesitation.</p><p>“Likewise,” Peli said with a shrug. “I mean, I know I’m not on any wanted lists. But half this damned planet probably is. I know there’s downsides to the Republic.”</p><p>“There needs to be limits to their presence,” another Mos Espa rep said with a nod. She was younger, a former worker from one of the pleasure houses. When the takeover of the city happened, she took advantage and killed all of her masters and was key to taking over the Slave District. “Your clinic removing slave tags is great, but many of us fear other governments as much as we fear bounty hunters. And it has not escaped anyone that we are now governed by who was once the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy.”</p><p>The look Din gave her, even with the helmet, was close to comical.</p><p>Peli snorted. “Maybe the stingiest bounty hunter in the galaxy.”</p><p>Boba turned his attention to Peli. “We did business in the past?”</p><p>“Yes. We did. Once,” Peli said with the kind of ire that Din warned him existed in the small mechanic. She pointed a finger at him and said, “Your kriffing ship needed a thruster repaired. I charged you for the bay because you didn’t want me or my droids to touch it, and you calculated exactly how many credits you owed me to the minute based on my hourly charge and how long you were there.”</p><p>Boba thought about it for a moment.</p><p>“You never told me you met other Mandalorians,” Din said with a tone that indicated this was an annoyance.</p><p>“You said you were looking for Mandalorians that were currently on Tatooine,” Peli said with an exasperated look. She gestured to Boba and said, “No one’d seen this barve for years.”</p><p>“Everyone thought he was dead,” the first Mos Espa rep said as he took a sip of his tea. “I, for one, am quite happy this <em>barve</em> is still among the living.”</p><p>“Me, too,” Din said. Dune gave him the same look she tended to give him anytime he managed to say something remotely sentimental in front of witnesses.</p><p>Boba cleared his throat and asked, “How are we to handle the Republic, then?”</p><p>In the end, there was just a small office off the Mos Eisley Spaceport with a handful of representatives. Boba sent out his people to find the other Republic observers throughout the planet. They weren’t hard to find, and they weren’t causing problems or trying to drum up support for some kind of Republic takeover. The consensus seemed to be that things were going <em>fine</em> on Tatooine now that the Hutts were gone.</p><p>A couple of Republic pilots were there for the festivities, along with several others that had to be from the Core. Boba could see their distinctive red uniforms and the fashions that seemed to only be used by those who lived in places that had paved walkways and hermetically sealed rooms that are auto-cleaned by service droids throughout the day. People were taking an interest in Tatooine, and in turn, they were taking an interest in Boba Fett in ways he never imagined.</p><p>There were plenty of bounties popping up on Boba. That was something he knew would happen from the very beginning. He planned for it, which is part of why he made his base of operations the palace. He knew the structure well, knew all of its security risks and advantages, and knew how to seal it up. What he never imagined was how many people he would have watching his back that he could actually <em>trust</em> when he got there.</p><p>Din Djarin wasn’t the type to sit idly by when there was a threat to Boba’s life, either, even if Boba tended to operate as if it was business as usual. He spent most of his life with a bounty on his head, starting from age 10 when Count Dooku sent Aurra Sing to collect him. After a while, having a price on his head seemed like an ordinary day. But Din took it personally.</p><p>In many cases, the hunters that showed up had prices on their heads. After Din had cashed in on the fourth one, Fennec joked that they should start a scholarship fund. She was half drunk at the time, and declared it would be hilarious to call it, “Boba’s Bounties for Education!”</p><p>That was now a fund in existence. Soon they would select the first scholars to go study at a Rylothian university.</p><p>More than once, Boba woke in the middle of the night and reached for Din and asked, “Is this real?”</p><p>Din would pull him close and say, “Yes, this is real. You are real. I am real. We are on Tatooine in this lumpy, terrible bed. It is all real.”</p><p>And Boba would relax back into the warmth of the Mandalorian and bask in the comfort that was reality. Anytime Din was near, Boba found that everything was substantially better. It didn’t matter what it was. Meetings were easier to focus on. Numbers seemed less annoying. <em>Sentients</em> seemed less annoying.</p><p>“There you are,” Din said from behind.</p><p>Boba turned and greeted him with a gentle headbutt that still managed to rattle his teeth without his helmet on. Din smirked and his eyes were shining. Boba said, “I’m not sure I’m ready for tonight.”</p><p>Din looked over the ledge at all the people. The crowd was growing as more arrived on a transport from Mos Espa. “It’s going to be a hell of a party.”</p><p>“I’m supposed to give a speech before the races start,” Boba said with the exact amount of anxiety in his voice that he felt. He didn’t bother to hide it, not when it was just him and Din alone on the walkway. Din nudged him with his shoulder, and Boba sighed. “I’ve never spoken in front of a crowd.”</p><p>With a couple steps, Din positioned himself in front of Boba, and gripped the ex-bounty hunter now Planet Administrator’s shoulders. “There is a lot in your head, but it is your heart that brought us here and got all those people to follow you. They don’t need to hear fancy words. They just need to hear Boba Fett say he will continue to lead and protect his people.”</p><p>“Calling them ‘my people’ might be a stretch, <em>cyar’ika</em>,” Boba said with a chuckle. But the rest was accurate. At every step from the initial assault on the palace, to the taking over Mos Espa and running out the mining and slave corporations, Boba only found himself with a deeper desire to fight to defend everyone that he saw. In his life, he never thought that he would see a day when he would come to a position of power and see it as an opportunity to have as much <em>positive</em> influence as he could.</p><p>Yes, he commandeered a couple over-rich karker’s homes, flushed a few bank accounts, and maybe didn’t stop some (in his opinion) well-deserved public executions. But the people spoke, and he listened; who was he to tell them they couldn’t kill the people who sold their families away from them? The money was redistributed. The houses were now being occupied by people who once lived in lean-to shacks with no water or sanitation. The palace was similarly occupied.</p><p>Boba and Din shared a small room in a sub chamber that the two somewhat security minded men had outfitted with better locks. It was one of the smallest apartments to be found in the palace, but Boba liked it because it reminded him somewhat of what it felt like to be in space. Plus, with everything humming and running, it reminded Boba of the hum of <em>Slave I</em>.</p><p>He’d never stayed on one planet so long without it being due to incarceration, being digested, or recovering from said digestion period. Boba thought he would hate being tied to a single location by duties and responsibilities, but in truth he <em>wasn’t</em>. True, he never expected someone to name a child after him—<em>that</em> was uncomfortable—but they were throwing a party to celebrate their first trade agreement, which Boba Fett negotiated in what felt like an out of body experience with representatives from Ryloth and Rodia. He’d negotiated with all sorts of people in his life over bounties and there was always the understanding that he was the galactic scum in the room. But to be greeted as Administrator Fett and treated as an equal with the sort who normally looked down on him was strange. The entire meeting, he waited for the moment the very polite, well-dressed, well-mannered trade representatives would drop the act of civility and say, <em>This was amusing, no chance. </em></p><p>Instead, Ryloth was to be the biggest importer of Tatooinian minerals and textiles, and in exchange Ryloth was going to send better quality moisture farming equipment and agricultural products. As a show of good will and support for the free peoples of Tatooine, a group of specialists came ahead of time to start retrofitting the existing infrastructure. Rodia was far more interested in the mining operations, but negotiated with the newly established Miners Guild. All exchange would happen through their governments and with oversight to prevent exploitation.</p><p>The party was just as much about celebrating what seemed to be a new era of plentiful water on Tatooine. In truth, there was always plentiful water on the desert planet, but the Hutts were good at controlling access. Water was far more expensive than any other item on the planet until Boba’s takeover. Now, water was free for everyone. It was rationed, because it was still a damned desert. Still, everyone had access and no one went without which was a vast improvement over people dying every day of thirst. Once the new moisture vaporators were in place, rationing would likely not be necessary at all.</p><p>At the same time, new homes were being built. The massive mansions owned by the Hutts and their representatives were now housing many families. Farming systems that previously were used only for the Hutts particular diets were now converted to grow crops for a wider palate.</p><p>Everywhere, there were problems to solve, and at every turn Boba found someone who had a solution. Most of the time, he was not the guy who had the answers, but he had a knack for finding someone who had an idea. Like a group of elders who worked cooking for one of the mining corporation figureheads came up with a decent ration bar that was simple to make, tasted good, and could fill a stomach easy. Then there was a young Weequay who did something similar in the palace, but they were a little sweeter and dense. Kind of crumbly.</p><p>“We call them cookies,” the Weequay told Boba when he delivered a sample of them. “I used an extract from vaporator mushrooms to sweeten them. Something I learned from the chef I was apprenticed to.”</p><p>“I will try them, I promise,” Boba told him.</p><p>Later that night when he and Din were alone in their subchamber room, Boba gave the Mandalorian the small box filled with the Weequay’s cookies and said, “I am supposed to try these. The kid in the kitchens made them and thinks they’re a good contender for a new ration bar.”</p><p>“The grandmas dried fruit bars were pretty good,” Din said as he took off his helmet. He was sweaty after spending most of the day out training with the new security forces. They were mostly former slaves, and in just a few weeks they were handling stun-blasters like they’d been doing it all their lives. Plus, it gave Din lots of practice. He came to the small table where Boba already sat with his armor removed and the box open. “They look like cookies.”</p><p>“You’ve had them before, I assume?” Boba said.</p><p>Din looked at Boba. “Do you mean to tell me that Mr. I’ve Been Everywhere and Know Everyone has never eaten a kriffing cookie?”</p><p>Boba stared at him and said in a flat tone, “No.”</p><p>“Then I hope these are delicious,” Din said with a smirk.</p><p>And they were. They were amazing. Boba took a bite and realized that he may have found a new favorite food. Or perhaps he found the food that caused him to have his armor adjusted. Either way, the Weequay was a damn good baker. He looked at Din, who had a big smile and a couple crumbs on his lips.</p><p>Boba thought things would change between them after everything. He feared distance. He feared a time of parting ways. Instead, the last few days on <em>Slave I</em> seemed to cement the idea that Din Djarin was part of Boba Fett’s life. In the weeks since arriving on Tatooine, that had not changed. If anything, he and Din had become incredibly domestic.</p><p>There was never a moment where they contemplated having separate rooms. They never actually discussed having a <em>shared</em> room. After they cleared out all the Hutt lackeys, everyone was exhausted but Boba contemplated going back to the ship. He never liked sleeping in Jabba’s Palace. There was too much history in that dark, dank shithole.</p><p>Then Din commed on their private line with instructions for his location in the subchamber. It was a place that Boba never went since it was primarily for the storage of alcohol and anything else that needed to keep cool. But at the back of it was a small room that looked like it once was a storage space but was blocked off.</p><p>With the two of them working, they cleared it out, cleaned it up, and had a place to sleep within a standard hour. They slept in their armor since there was no door, and neither slept very well, but it was enough to get them ready to go for the next task. For days, that’s how they did things. Go fight, do some work, crash in their armor, then wake and do it all over.</p><p>The only break they got during those early days was because of a massive sandstorm. Boba spent most of his time with Eil in their makeshift medical bay removing slave chips from the palace residents and the mercenaries. He trained the Twi’lek doctor in the procedure, and thanks to the Hutts being abominations, there was plenty of equipment for both of them to work in tandem to get the most patients through.</p><p>By the end of the day, Boba removed 43 implants—an improvement over the 9 he managed on a typical day since their arrival—which completed the mercenary company as well as a handful of the palace inhabitants. Overall, it was a good day. But nothing was better than getting to the subchamber and finding that Din had commandeered a bed and had installed a sonic fresher.</p><p>“You’ve been busy,” Boba said as he looked over Din’s work. He had the strong desire to strip and get in the fresher immediately. He could smell the astringent scent of the medical unit and he was ready to get it off him.</p><p>Din, who was not wearing his armor, but just a loose linen shirt and his black trousers and boots, said, “I figured I might as well get this finished. You haven’t even tried the door.”</p><p>Boba looked at the door and realized that there was a new mechanism on it. He hit the button and heard it lock. He took off his helmet with a smile on his face. “No wonder you’re walking around half naked.”</p><p>“Ha,” Din said as he sauntered to him and kissed him with the kind of carefree sloppiness he only managed after a few drinks of spotchka. “It’s my turn to tell you to get in the fresher.”</p><p>“I will not argue,” Boba said.</p><p>Boba did not bother getting completely dressed once out of the fresher. Instead, he put on a pair of loose pants and flopped down on the bed where Din already lay with his boots off. The bed was the right kind of soft and cool enough that Boba was sure that a blanket would be fine at some point. Even better, it would not bother him to have Din right next to him or half on top of him. Or half under him. Whatever the case may be.</p><p>They spent that night having lazy sex, listening to music and the wind howl through the wind towers that cooled the palace, and enjoying the break from the non-stop push since they landed to get this wild land out of the hands of the Hutts.</p><p>That was their living arrangement since then.</p><p>There were only three days where Din and Boba did not sleep beside each other, and that was only because Boba in all his administrative brilliance, realized that Din would be a good person to go talk to a group of Tuskens not that far away who once had a trade arrangement with the palace. Din perked up at the idea.</p><p>It was a terrible three days.</p><p>Not that anything happened that was terrible.</p><p>However, Boba realized that he had become accustomed to a certain person’s company. When night came, the subchamber room didn’t feel like home without Din in it and Boba found himself roaming the palace until he ended up on the roof. That’s when he really knew he was hopelessly in love with Din Djarin, because his sentimental heart wondered if Din was looking at the stars too.</p><p>The next night, Fennec asked him to come up to her and Dune’s room—which used to be used for visiting dignitaries and probably had a very disgusting history that Boba preferred not to think about, though it was very spacious. The three of them sat around talking about the situation on Tatooine for a while, with Dune spending most of her time reiterating her disbelief at what was going on.</p><p>“Why is it so impossible?” Boba asked.</p><p>Dune shrugged. “It’s not that it’s impossible; it’s that <em>everything</em> lately has seemed impossible, but yet it keeps happening.”</p><p>“Someone told me once that impossible things are only impossible because no one has the guts to do it,” Fennec said with a smirk. “Look at your Rebellion. Bunch of nobodies that had no business taking on the Empire. But you pulled it off because you had people who were willing to do what had to be done. To do the impossible.”</p><p>“Plus a Jedi,” Dune said. “And literally the same Jedi showed up and saved our asses on Gideon’s ship.”</p><p>“I refuse to attribute what is happening on Tatooine to Skywalker,” Boba grumbled. He frowned at his glass of spotchka then said, “But maybe there is something to the Force. I don’t know. But it seems like there’s times that what I’m doing is supposed to happen. What I am doing is what needs to be done because it is the next thing in a story that someone other than me is telling. And that’s why I run into people like Din Djarin, Luke Skywalker, and you two lovely people—because that’s how the story is supposed to go. Maybe it’s the Force or the gods or just karking coincidence. Whatever it is…” He shrugged. “It seems to be working out for once.”</p><p>Fennec was smiling.</p><p>Dune said, “Damn, Fett. I think that’s the most you’ve ever said that wasn’t just bullshit.”</p><p>“Din’s not here to listen to me ramble, therefore, you must suffer,” Boba said with an almost sad chuckle. Then he noticed the look Dune was giving him, and he almost growled, “What?”</p><p>“Is that how you did it?” Dune asked. “You talked him into falling in love with you?”</p><p>Boba flipped her off. “Dune, I was honestly starting to like you.”</p><p>Dune leaned towards him and said, “Fett, it is not news to anyone that you like the guy. Maybe to Din at first, but he’s a little thick-headed.”</p><p>Boba gave her a look, and once she finished off her drink she said, “When it comes to weapons, tactics, operation planning, strategies, all that shit—I’d take his opinion over any general I’ve ever served under. And he really knows how to bring out the absolute best in people like no one I’ve ever seen. I mean, you’ve seen what he’s done with the security trainees. He did the same with a bunch of farmers on Sorgan. Repeatedly, I’ve seen him do the karking impossible. I’m not saying the man is not intelligent. I’m saying that he doesn’t really do well with <em>people</em>, you know, one-on-one.”</p><p>Fennec snorted and said behind her mug of mulled wine, “Sounds like someone else I know.”</p><p>“While your assessment of his skill with battle is accurate, I feel your judgment is incorrect otherwise,” Boba said with a shrug. Generally speaking, they communicated well with each other even when the subject wasn’t easy to talk about. Boba had no problem saying what he was thinking, and Din tended to just ask with his actions and his eyes—though he was much more verbal lately in certain aspects. He said, “Then again, maybe it seemed easy because we speak the same language.”</p><p>“Now you’re being romantic,” Fennec said as she refilled his glass.</p><p>He felt a little more relaxed that evening, but Boba still ended up sleeping in what had become his office.</p><p>Naturally, the day Din returned was the busiest of all. Boba had a meeting with a street planning committee who was seeking funds for repairing roads in the Slave Quarter of Mos Espa to make the new school more readily accessible. Schools were high on Boba’s list since at his heart, knowledge was always his priority and often saved his neck. Currently in the palace, classes for the adults were being held and many were picking up Galactic Basic writing and reading with the same fervor they picked up security training.</p><p>After that finished, Boba had an open office time that was established due to requests from the Mos Espa representatives. That day, he spent three hours talking to different groups from Mos Espa who were interested in establishing connections to galactic trade guilds, a representative from a moisture farm out near the Dune Sea requesting assistance dealing with bandits, and a couple Mos Eisley weavers presented Boba with a crimson sash.</p><p>Once office hours finished, he went to his actual office—which was little more than a small private room off the throne room—to eat something. The throne room was now the headquarters the Planetary Administrator of Tatooine, and was always bustling with people working, talking, and generally <em>present.</em> Boba found it easy to fall into the old habits of sequestering himself to eat and drink, which he did quick, then put his helmet back in place.</p><p>The next thing on his agenda was to go down to the armory to sign off on some new weapons that were brought in from a cache found in one of the Hutt security outposts that the Fett’s Enforcers—not his idea—wiped out a week prior. They were kriffing terrible quality, but as he and the mercenary group’s weapon’s technician examined them, they found many that could be worked into something decent or at least parted out.</p><p>Then, Boba found himself in the middle of putting out a literal fire that happened due to an overloaded conduit in the hallway between the palace main level and the armory. It made Boba miss Din a little bit more because it was caused by a faulty droid, and it would have pleased Din to no end to participate in the dismantling. As it was, the droid was sent to mechanics teachers who intended to use it for the younglings to learn their basic circuitry. And of course, Boba had to stick around to assist in the rebuilding of the conduit.</p><p>Due to the many injuries, Boba decided to stop by the medical unit to check on those who had been near when the conduit had its explosion once the lights were back on. Thankfully, no one was killed, but there were several who had burns who needed treatments. He ended up holding a little girl who was the child of one of the palace kitchen staff while her father was treated by Eil for his burns. It was a strange situation because Boba had little experience with children, but the little girl clung to him while she watched her father get patched up. Because she was upset at seeing her father injured, Boba gave her a ration bar he had in one of his pouches, which she munched on as he swayed back and forth.</p><p>“Wha’s that?” she asked after a while, gesturing to Eil.</p><p>Boba answered in his calm, neutral tone that, when filtered through his helmet, sounded almost mechanical, “The doctor is putting a bacta patch over the burned area.”</p><p>The doctor continued working, using a spray on the more superficial injuries, which prompted the little girl to again ask, “Wha’s that?”</p><p>“It’s to help your father get better,” Boba answered.</p><p>Eil smiled and said, “Your daddy will be fixed in just a moment, little one.”</p><p>The patient, who lay on his side while the treatments were applied, said, “Thank you, Master Fett, for your kindness. You did not have to do this.”</p><p>“Please don't call me 'master',” Boba grumbled as the little girl started messing with the side of his helmet. "It’s not kindness to take care of people who are my responsibity."</p><p>“Sounds about like you,” came Din’s voice from behind. He sounded amused and looked casual as you please leaning against the entryway. His armor was dusty and his black cape and flight suit was shaded brown and tan from the abundance of sand in the fibers.</p><p><em>You came straight to me</em>, Boba thought as the felt that familiar warmth fill his chest. He said, “It is the truth, <em>cyar’ika</em>.”</p><p>Din walked to his side and stood with his hands on his hips for a moment, looking him over. He said, “You seem natural at this.”</p><p>“He will deny it,” Eil said without looking away from his work.</p><p>Boba looked from Din to the little girl and said, “I did nothing. She climbed onto me when I entered the room.”</p><p>“You have the option of putting her down,” her father said from the table.</p><p>She held Boba’s neck tighter and said, “No.”</p><p>Though the idea of putting her down so he could drag Din into the nearest private area was very appealing, Boba said, “Your papa is almost finished; I will not put you down until then.”</p><p>“Two minutes,” Eil said.</p><p>“I feel much better, doctor,” he said.</p><p>On their private helmet comm, Din said, “<em>I missed you.”</em></p><p><em>“I missed you, too,”</em> Boba said with an embarrassing amount of relief and longing in his voice.</p><p>Din made a little noise that Boba knew meant he was happy. He said to Eil, “They keeping you busy, Doc?”</p><p>“Naturally,” he said with a purr. “There’s an endless supply of scrapes, bumps, boo-boos, burns, blaster wounds, and broken bones for me to tend to. And I’ll have you know that your resistance to droids means nothing to me, Mando, as I have already put in an order for two medical droids and will not hear any complaints.”</p><p>“I think I’ll see to my own injuries,” Din said.</p><p>When the girl’s father was finished, he asked them to join him in the kitchen so he could make sure that they were properly fed since it was well past the time of serving meals. Boba waved him off and insisted that he had plenty back in his quarters, and Boba sent a message to the Weequay cook to send a box of cookies to all the ones who were injured. It just seemed a nice thing to do.</p><p>Getting down to the tunnels that led to the subchamber felt like running a damned gauntlet, and by the time the fifth person stopped Boba for something <em>barely</em> official, Din was openly snickering at his <em>barely</em> contained frustration. The next moment they were free, however, Boba looked at Din and said, “Want to see a fast way to get through this damned place without being seen?”</p><p>There are a lot of vents and access spaces throughout the palace, and Boba explored all of them in his younger days when he was more of a fulltime resident. He learned them from one of Jabba’s former heads of security who seemed to think he was grooming Boba to be his lieutenant. Later, those spaces were good for tracking bounties in the palace—despite it supposedly being <em>neutral </em>territory. Now, Boba used them to slip away because he managed to become popular among a lot of people.</p><p>When they finally made it to the room, Din closed the door, locked it, and removed his helmet as he turned to greet an already helmetless Boba with a kiss they both seemed to be dying for. It was immediately obvious that there was too much beskar in the way because Boba was craving touch in such a visceral way that it was almost a physical pain.</p><p>But as they stripped, it became more and more apparent that Din brought a lot of sand with him. It was packed in every crevice of his armor. It filtered deep into every bit of fabric that he wore. There was a line of sweat-wet sand around his neck. Taking off his gloves was almost comical, as was removing his boots.</p><p>“I need a fresher,” Din said as he sat in one of the metal chairs, shirtless and surrounded by sand.</p><p>“I think you need a broom,” Boba said with a chuckle. “I thought you were trading with the Tuskans, not bringing the Dune Sea home with you.”</p><p>Din took his hand and looked up with his big soulful eyes and said, “It’s nice to have a place that I call home, and that it is where you are.”</p><p>“You’re going to break me saying kriff like that, you karking sap,” Boba said before he grabbed the back of Din’s sweat damp hair, tilted his head back, and kissed him like he’d been dying to do so for three karking days. He didn’t care one damned bit that Din’s mouth was a little gritty because the sand gets everywhere, especially when you’re riding on a swoop bike. No, Boba didn’t care a bit about a little grit. Grit is how the two of them survived this long.</p><p>A fresher was a good idea. They both had one, then they climbed into bed and lay pressed together as close as they could for a few hours while catching each other up on the days that passed. Because Fennec was a real hero, she volunteered to take over all his duties the following day.</p><p>That night was interesting. While wrapped up together, a little tired and very satisfied, Din asked in a lazy voice, “Did you learn the <em>Resol’nare</em>?”</p><p>A memory surfaced at the thought of the Mandalorian cultural tenants, of sitting at the small kitchen table in the apartment on Kamino across from Jango as they said the words together in both languages. They did things like that almost every morning and throughout the day when he was taken along. Boba nodded against Din’s shoulder and recited, “Education and armor. Self-defense, our tribe. Our language and our leader—all help us survive<em>.”</em></p><p>Din looked at him. “I didn’t know there was a cute little poem about it.”</p><p>“That’s how I learned it.” Boba shrugged. “My father taught me when I was little.”</p><p>Almost giggling, Din kissed the side of Boba’s head and said, “We need to teach it to our kids someday.”</p><p>Boba wanted to be shocked by that statement, but every time there was an unclaimed orphan on Tatooine, he was convinced the Mandalorian was going to declare them his new foundling. He said, “I’ll write it down, <em>cyar’ika.</em>”</p><p>Seeming to realize what he just said, Din said, “I may have assumed a little.”</p><p>His cheeks were colored sunset red, and Boba thought he looked just as beautiful. Boba brushed his fingers back through Din’s hair and gripped it in the way that never failed to make the Mandalorian smile. He said, “<em>Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, cyar’ika.”</em> <em>(I love you and know you in my heart, beloved).</em></p><p>“You’re a little too understanding,” Din said.</p><p>He kissed him and said, “We’re going to end up with twenty kids.</p><p>Din laughed. “We’ll need our own armorer.”</p><p>Boba snorted. “Not to mention a bigger apartment.”</p><p>“I’m focused on the basics,” Din said, punctuated with another kiss. To a Mandalorian, weapons and armor came before shelter.</p><p>“You will be <em>Mand’alor</em>,” Boba said. “I’m sure you can manage to get armor made for our twenty children.”</p><p>Din chuckled deep in his chest and then said, “I realized something while I was gone.”</p><p>Boba waited, listening. Din was still smiling, and the look in his eyes was the one that indicated there was something he needed to get off his mind.</p><p>“I used to prefer being alone. I travelled alone most of my life, and it was good. If I wanted company, I had it. No tie downs, no obligations but to the covert. It felt right.” Din’s hand stroked up Boba’s upper arm, and he said, “It started because of Grogu. I learned there was something I was not taught. Or perhaps…” His eyes met Boba’s and he smiled as he said, “Maybe I just needed to learn it—that what makes a Mandalorian isn’t being a faceless suit of armor who follows the Way.”</p><p>Din sat up, bringing Boba with him, and practically sat in his lap as he continued, “I have felt stronger knowing that I have this—<em>you</em>—on my side than I ever did. I lived in fear of failing my people before, but I don’t fear that now. Because I see it is all much bigger than the covert or me or Bo-Katan. I feel as if I have been searching for the soul of what it means to be what we are.”</p><p>“I’m not—” Boba started.</p><p>“Yes you are,” Din said gently. “And more than that, I want us in some way to be joined.”</p><p>Boba could see the sincerity and bit of anxiety the suggestion brought the Mandalorian.</p><p>“I feel as if this is the inevitable course of my destiny,” Boba said with a nonchalance that possibly was wrong for the moment, but nonetheless fit how simple it all felt. “Is that why you asked about the Actions?”</p><p>“A little,” Din said with a soft, jittery laugh.</p><p>“Clan Fett is ancient and lies in disgrace,” Boba said in a serious tone. Din’s brow furrowed. Then Boba said, “I think I could handle being under your banner, chieftain of the Mudhorns. As long as that is what you want.”</p><p>“Yes,” Din answered. “As you said, I know you in my heart, Boba. This feels an inevitable course of our lives. All our plans are made as one already. We have a plan for everything that is going to happen in the next decade. When we are apart, I wish I were beside you. When I am with you, I feel invincible. I can think of no one better to tie myself to.”</p><p>“That simple, huh?” Boba said with a smile.</p><p>Din nodded.</p><p>There are no forms for this sort of thing, at least not that either of them knew about. Inside of Din’s tribe, it was just a matter of saying a few words in front of one of the leaders. Boba knew that in most clans there are rituals involved to bring in a new member, but he didn’t know kriff about the Fett Clan’s actual system; all that was lost with Jango. Thus, they settled for painting of symbols on beskar and durasteel. The Fett symbol was painted onto Din’s armor with the same green paint that Boba used for his armor and Din painted the Mudhorn symbol onto Boba’s armor in place of the Fett symbol.</p><p>Even without any kind of announcement, it was clear to everyone in the palace that the two belonged to each other now.</p><p>Word quickly spread that it was a pair of Mandalorians who ruled Tatooine, as opposed to <em>just</em> Boba Fett. This circulation of rumors brought about a sudden influx of other Mandalorians to the desert world who were curious about the ones who were there—specifically, the one who supposedly carried the Darksaber.</p><p>Which is why down below, among all those celebrating the trade agreement with Ryloth, were many Mandalorians sent by Fenn Shysa. They were Mandalorian Protectors and the closest thing to diplomats that ever existed when it came to their people. Despite the fact that he was or more less the acting <em>Mand’alor</em>, Fenn Shysa was among them somewhere in the crowd below.</p><p>“Are you still with me?” Din said, drawing Boba back to the present, to the battlements of the palace overlooking what was shaping up to be one helluva party. “You are being very quiet.”</p><p>Boba turned to him and said, “I’ve been thinking about everything that’s happened, and I still have no idea what I’m supposed to say to these people.”</p><p>Din kissed his forehead and said, “Trust yourself, <em>cyar’ika.</em>”</p><p>“Don’t be surprised if I tell everyone to drink and piss off,” Boba said with a smirk. “I do have a reputation to uphold.”</p><p>Din chuckled. “Yes, you’re an asshole, Fett.”</p><p>“Now you’re just trying to make me feel better,” Boba said as he pulled Din close. It was calming. Later, when all this official kriff was finished, Boba knew both of them would be fed up with people and need time in their private quarters to unwind. But together, they could make it seem like this was what they both lived for.</p><p>They lately took to dressing with matching capes made from Tatooine weave fabric and matching sashes beneath their utility belts. It was more useful than anything, because fabrics from Tatooine were much more sand-proof, but they also looked like they belonged among the people of the planet. As a side effect, they looked like they belonged together, too. The people had their gossip, which Boba found he didn’t really mind since Din didn’t find it concerning. When gifts started arriving in celebration of their nuptials, that’s when Boba knew Fennec put out some sort of announcement. She was head of what was turning into the Tatooine Planetary Force, but it was clear she still enjoyed her status as best bud.</p><p>As they walked inside, they were greeted first by Fennec and Dune, who were both dressed up for the event—meaning Fennec redid her braids and wore her new armorweave office wear that had all the appearance of formal while still being useful in a fight and Dune polished the leather of her armor and wore the new boots. Boba and Fennec walked at the center with Din and Dune flanking their respective partners as they made their way down through the palace and out into the festivities beyond.  </p><p>There were many visitors in addition to the local population. Those participating in the new trade alliance had sent their own representatives, many of whom had not dared set foot on Tatooine sand for many generations due to the danger posed by the Hutts. That Boba Fett managed to negotiate something so lucrative straight out the gate felt almost like the hand of fate, but at this point he was willing to accept it was just another sign that this was what he was supposed to do. <em>Or the karking Force.</em> Whatever the reason, he was supposed to take Tatooine in this strange direction where he was the Planatary Administrator bringing in trade and forming partnerships like a real karking leader instead of how he initially imagined—being the guy behind the scene pulling the strings.</p><p>Din found it <em>hilarious</em>. At every turn, the Mandalorian loved to point out that Boba wanted to push the title of <em>Mand’alor</em> onto him, how Boba always talked about his lack of interest in leading, and now he stumbled into leadership with the same awareness as Din ended up with the Darksaber. There was nothing malicious in his humor, especially when he was snickering as he massaged Boba’s over-tense shoulders after reading over pages and pages on his datapad concerning the current needs of a population he accidentally took responsibility for.</p><p>Boba took his responsibilities profoundly serious. It was because of this that many of the people he passed as they entered the festivities, he knew by name. If he didn’t know them by name, he knew them by their industries or their guilds because he conducted business or had a meeting with them and recognized their logos and insignias. A couple vendors came out to give Fennec and Dune samples of their confections. The roadway was filled with kids running around with glow sticks—some swirling them around and giggling, others sword fighting—while the parents and community of adults watched them go.</p><p>Their destination was an arena. At one point, it was a place for executions. Tonight, it was to be used for Sloppy Swooping—which is racing using rough put-together swoop bikes. All participants are required to wear armor. Eil had two bacta tanks filled and 4 more ready to go in the event they were required because despite this being something that was decided by the planning council, the interim surgeon general of Tatooine considered this a bad idea. Dune was slated to participate in the second heat.</p><p>The representatives from Ryloth, Navarro, and Rodia were waiting at the viewing box to greet the four of them. The Mandalorian representatives stood back until Boba and Din approached them. All of them were wearing the armor of the Mandalorian Protectors—colors that matched those of Boba’s—but one of them stood out among the group due to the marks on his helmet and chest piece.</p><p>“Fenn Shysa,” Boba said as he held out his hand. The other man gripped his forearm, and then tugged Boba into a quick back-slap of a hug.</p><p>Fenn Shysa belted out, “<em>Su cuy'gar! </em>Thare yer wi' yer man. Figures ye wid mairie th' neist <em>Mand'alor</em>. Ye wid dae anythin' tae jook th' title, hurdie.”</p><p>On their private comm, Din asked, “<em>Is he speaking Basic?”</em></p><p><em>“Concord Dawn dialect,”</em> Boba responded. Then to Shysa said, “<em>Mand’alor</em>, this is Din Djarin. Din, this is Fenn Shysa.”</p><p>Shysa said, “Aye, that’s me. King o’ th’ Mandos. N' ye'r th' Mando wha carries th' Darksaber. Tell me true: does Bo-Katan plan tae duel ye oan Zanbar?”</p><p>“It’s true,” Din said. “In another month.”</p><p>“Ha!” Shysa blurted as he slapped a hand on Din’s shoulder. “Muh folk wull be thare tae watch. Ye cannae trust her folk tae speil fair.”</p><p>Din studied him. “Why don’t you trust Bo-Katan?”</p><p>Shysa scoffed a laugh. “How come wid ye? Whin haes she bin honest aboot anythin' wi' ye?”</p><p>“Fair enough,” Din said with a shrug. “I didn’t plan to get into a cycle of dueling Mandalorians, though.”</p><p>Boba said, “I doubt that will be the case.”</p><p>“Boba speaks true,” Shysa said with a nod. “See, ah hae plans fur th' pure winner. A'm certain bein' Boba's man, ye ken th' plan ah hud fur him.”</p><p>Din stared at him and said, “I mean no disrespect, but I have no idea what you are saying to me.”</p><p>“He plans to concede his title to you, making you undisputed <em>Mand’alor</em> of the majority of the clans,” Boba answered, because that was what Shysa wanted. He never really wanted to lead anything, but he spent years in the mud and grit doing the job to keep the resistance alive on Mandalore to the end. “At least, that’s what he intended to do to me, and since you and I have become a unit and I have told him repeatedly to kark off, he will make the same concession to you. Because Fenn Shysa prefers to drink and shoot at kriff.”</p><p>Shysa nodded, and said, “That reminds me: dae ye hae ony Black Ale?”</p><p>“No, but there’s plenty of spotchka,” Boba said.</p><p>“And if Bo-Katan wins?” Din asked.</p><p>“Then she 'n' her kin wull likely attack us,” Shysa said.</p><p>“Where are you setup now?” Boba asked.</p><p>“Keldabe,” Shysa said with a nod, and Boba felt like he had been hit.</p><p>“You’re back on Mandalore?” he asked.</p><p>Shysa laughed. “Aye. We bin back oan Mandalore fur a few years noo.”</p><p>“<em>’Take back what’s ours,’” </em>Din said into their private comm. “<em>Was she talking about attacking other Mandalorians to take back Mandalore?</em>”</p><p>Boba looked at him, then said to Shysa, “How strong is your army?”</p><p>“Pure tough enough,” Shysa answered. “Nae bit war vets 'n' th' toughest mercs ye ever met.”</p><p>“And you think Bo-Katan would attack?” Din asked. Boba didn’t realize what Bo-Katan might be building up for. He fought—<em>briefly—</em>with the resistance on Concordia, which is how he and Fenn Shysa became acquainted. Until hearing that there were Mandalorians on Mandalore, he never imagined there was anything to <em>take over</em>.</p><p>“Ah wull nae gie th' title tae her. 'twas her 'n' her fowk that bought in wi' th' damn <em>Jetti</em> 'n' left us wabbit tae th' Empire,” Shysa spat out. “Ah wull nae lea th' fowk in th' hauns o' a selfish leader.”</p><p>Din cocked his head.</p><p>Boba took pity on him and said on their private comm, “<em>He says he won’t give the title to her because it was her and her people who brought the Jedi to Mandalor and left them weak to the Empire and he won’t leave his people in the hands of a selfish leader.”</em></p><p>Din nodded and asked, “What makes you think I’d be any better?”</p><p>“Yer wi’ him,” Shysa said, using his head to gesture to Boba. “'n' ah hae heard yer legends. Mah folk bin peepin' ye fur some time. Bit lets blether aboot politics efter. A'd ower listen tae yer mate's speech noo.”</p><p>Din looked at Boba.</p><p>“He’s been paying attention to you for a while, but he’d rather talk about the political kriff after I speak,” Boba said. Then he groaned. “I don’t like speeches.”</p><p>“Eh, nor I,” Shysa said with a wave of his hand. “Just tell’em tae git blootert ‘n’ party.”</p><p>Din looked at Boba and said, “Did he just—”</p><p>“He said to tell them to get drunk and party, yes,” Boba said with a snicker. He took a breath and looked at Fennec and asked, “Do I actually need to say anything? Can’t we just start the races?”</p><p>Fennec laughed at that and said, “You just step up there and see what happens.”</p><p>“No one will even notice that I—” Boba said as he approached the front of the box, but his voice faded as the crowd erupted into cheers that drowned out whatever else he said. He hadn’t realized the entire arena was full. He wasn’t sure how many people the arena was supposed to occupy. He had his helmet estimate the crowd, and he could feel sweat rise at the number given.</p><p>Din’s hand was suddenly at the small of his back, his thumb at the space at his side where he could press just so that Boba felt a little bit of the tension and anxiety melt away. He said to him alone, <em>“You have this, cyar’ika.”</em></p><p>Boba stepped up to the microphone and raised his hand, hoping that it would quiet everyone. Instead, the cacophony increased and he was certain it would go on forever. Din was beside him and so was Fennec and Dune, but he still felt very much on the spot. <em>No more hiding in the shadows. No more playing the game from behind the curtains. What have I karking got myself into? </em></p><p>“I’m not much for speeches,” Boba finally said, which managed to bring out another round of cheers. <em>A good sign. Keep it short.</em> He continued, “It’s an honor to be here with <em>citizens</em> of Tatooine.”</p><p>That got a massive cheer. Everyone being a full citizen was a new thing, and something that really pushed Boba from “asshole bounty hunter” to “asshole Planetary Administrator.”</p><p>“We have our new trade partners, the Rylothians, Rodians, and Navarroans, among us, along with our friends the Mandalorians and New Republic,” Boba said. He waited for the next small bit of cheers to settle. Mandalorians were particularly popular on the planet lately, and while Boba would love to take credit, he knew that was all Din Djarin. He was known all over the planet because of the Krayt dragon. “I know I wasn’t born here. A lot of us weren’t. But this is my home. I’m glad to share this night with you. Now let’s drink and get these races started!”</p><p>The eruption of cheers from the arena was punctuated by the sound of swoop bikes coming online, and Boba reached behind him and felt everything was right in the universe when Din was there to take his hand. He turned towards him and said on their comm, “<em>I feel like I may vomit.”</em></p><p>Din pulled him close and used his free hand to press their helmets together, and Boba instantly felt a little less nauseous. It was strange the things that he experienced in his life that were trials of his mettle, yet standing in front of a crowd and opening his mouth seemed to be the challenge of his lifetime. At that moment, he wished he could drag Din into a private room and wrap himself in the warmth of his body until all the parts of him stopped feeling so shaky.</p><p>“<em>I’ve got it on good authority that we’re only expected to stay to watch the first two races,”</em> Din said with a tone that suggested he had plans. He pressed a little into him and added, “<em>Now, let’s small talk these politicians.”</em></p><p>Boba laughed at that and found it was surprisingly easy to small talk the politicians, as Din put it. The Ryloth and Rodia representatives knew each other and both knew Boba Fett by reputation, which was somewhat awkward at first. However since everyone had been on various sides of the Galactic Civil War, it seemed everyone was willing to see it all as bygones. When one of the well-dressed New Republic folks from the Core made their way up to the box, Boba discovered that they were the talk of the Senate Committee for Outer Rim Relations. Tatooine seemed to be a particular interest to many senators, and while Boba told them that there was no interest currently in joining the New Republic—there was only 8% of the population interested in the concept at the time of the most recent surveys—the representatives were eager to offer their aid.</p><p>Din gravitated towards Fenn Shysa, which was what Boba expected of the two should they ever be in the same room together. Din grilled him over the war on Mandalore, and Boba ended up hearing things he never knew concerning the work of the commandos during the early years. Shysa talked about how they’ve worked to rebuild Keldabe. They were getting ready restart MandalMotors and would soon be manufacturing their own ships again.</p><p>When the first race ended, a local musician came out to perform in the center of the arena which brought out a crowd to dance, and Shysa said to Boba in <em>Mando’a</em>, “[Tell me, Boba, how in the name of the gods did you really pull this off? Because I’ve known you for near 20 years, and I always thought I would have to force you to power as my dying request.]”</p><p>“[He blames me],” Din said.</p><p>To Shysa, Boba said, “[It’s Din’s fault.]”</p><p>Shysa laughed at that. He looked at Din and said, “[It is true that love can make a man better. I fell in love with a princess years ago and haven’t been the same since.]”</p><p>Din cocked his head. “[Are you talking about Bo-Katan?]”</p><p>“[Gods no!]” Shysa snorted as if offended. “[No, no. Princess Leia Organa. Fierce thing, she is. Took me for a moonlight stroll trying to get information about my dear Boba here. I don’t care that she bashed my head to a tree. I swear, I’ll compare all others to her til the day I die.]”</p><p>“[She is very intimidating],” Boba said with a nod.</p><p>“[I don’t know her],” Din said with a shrug. “[I know Boba’s mentioned her.]”</p><p>“[She’s a hero of the war],” Shysa said with a wistful tone.</p><p>Boba made a mental note to never send that “thank you” message concerning Leia killing Jabba. It seemed she had enough to deal with. He asked, “[Does your inner circle know your plans?]”</p><p>Shysa laughed heartily. “[To marry the princess or to concede to the one who wields the Darksaber?]”</p><p>“[Either],” Boba said with a laugh.</p><p>“[They all know I wish to retire, and plenty still follow tradition to wish to see it in the hands of our leader],” Shysa said. “[I’d like to grow some crops and watch a few sunsets before my final fight without worrying over a whole sector of folk.]”</p><p>It was then that Dune and Fennec came over to them and Dune said to Din, “You betting on me, Mando?”</p><p>“<em>Elek, ner vod,</em>” Din responded as he held up his fist, which she knocked with hers despite the confusion on her face.</p><p>Dune asked, “What language is that?”</p><p>Din laughed and said, “I’m not having much luck with language tonight. Yes, I bet on you. I have a thousand credits on you, so I hope that deathtrap you and Fennec put together wins.”</p><p>Shysa stood up and took off his helmet, revealing his greying hair and carefully braided beard as he gave a nod and said, “An’ wha is this warrior ‘n’ beauty?”</p><p>“Cara Dune,” she said with her usual smirk. “And you are the ambassador I guess?”</p><p>Boba snorted.</p><p>“Aye,” Shysa said as his grin grew. “Aye, that's me. Th' ambassador tae th' Mandos, though a've hud a few ither titles 'ere 'n' thare.”</p><p>Fennec said, “Fenn Shysa is the current <em>Mand’alore</em>.”</p><p>Dune’s brow scrunched and said, “I thought you had to have the lightsaber thing.”</p><p>“That is th’ legend,” Shysa said with a wave of his hand. “Yer mukker ‘ere ‘n’ ah hae discussed it.”</p><p>Din looked up at her and said, “I’m the mukker.”</p><p>“Is that a good thing?” Dune asked with a laugh. Din shrugged and nodded.</p><p>Shysa, who had no idea what kind of danger he was in, walked around the table and took Dune’s hand. He said, “Haes a'body ever tellt ye that ye'r as bonny as a brammer speckled nebula, milady?”</p><p>“I can safely say the answer is no,” Dune said with an amused smirk. “And I am quite taken, but way to shoot your shot, <em>Mand’alor</em>.”</p><p>Shysa barked a laugh. “Ah wish ye luck in yer race, milady Dune. Ah’ll toss a credit oan ye, tae.”</p><p>“You can buy the victory rounds,” Fennec said with a wink as she and Dune turned to the walkway and departed.</p><p>Dune won her race.</p><p>Din arranged an escape. It wasn’t anything elaborate, and it involved going through the crowds—which Boba didn’t really mind. He actually liked being around the regular folks. It felt more natural to his life. He spent more of his time in the back alleys of the galaxy than he did on a dais, and he was far more relaxed when he was beside Din, occasionally stopping to talk to someone who worked in the palace or to usher a kid back to their parents. They passed a little corral where a few off-worlders were petting banthas and some musicians nearby were playing traditional Tatooine music using instruments originally used only by Tuskans. It took Boba a moment to realize that most of the people around the corral <em>were</em> Tuskan. It was no wonder the instruments sounded so beautiful.</p><p>Due to the nature of the Hutts activities, there were lots of smuggling tunnels. One of them led into the section that brought them close to the subchamber and their small room.</p><p>As predicted, the moment the door was closed and locked, both men enjoyed the feel of the silence after so much noise and people and just <em>sensory overload</em>. It was <em>fine</em> when Boba could be in those crowds as just another bystander, but being the center of attention was something he would need to get used to. In public, he could maintain the façade easily that he was stern, calm, and always ready to handle all situations. But the reality was…</p><p>“You are exhausted, aren’t you?” Din said as he slipped his arms around Boba’s waist.</p><p>“I shouldn’t be,” Boba said in a huff.</p><p>Din turned him around and Boba saw that Din had already removed his helmet and most of his upper body armor. <em>How long was I staring at the door?</em> Din took off Boba’s helmet and when he turned back to him, his warm, calloused hands came up to cup his face. “This was a good night.”</p><p>Boba laughed. “What did you think of Fenn Shysa?”</p><p>“He seems a lot like you,” Din said.</p><p>“Take that back,” Boba said with a weak shove and breathy laugh.</p><p>Din unclasped Boba’s cape and said, “I can’t quite place it.”</p><p>“Our armor looks alike,” Boba said. “That’s where the similarities end.”</p><p>“He cares a lot about his people,” Din said with a soft smile. “And you both remind me of the kind of person I want to be going forward.”</p><p>“That’s what I’m supposed to say to you, Din,” Boba said.</p><p>Din pulled him into a kiss that seemed to release all the tension Boba held in his body. A smirk was on Din’s face when they parted and he said, “Then I guess we’re perfect for each other, <em>cyare.</em>”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One. More. Chapter. </p><p>An epilogue, in essence.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. An Ordinary Day in the Ever After. Sort Of.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Boba and Din woke to the sound of their bedroom door sliding open and their foundling daughter, Nissa, saying in a tone that she could have garnered from either of them during her years with them, “It’s dawn.”</p><p>Din pushed up on an elbow as Boba sat upright and said with his eyes closed, “One or two?”</p><p>“You said <em>dawn</em> not <em>suns-rise</em>,” she said as she planted both hands on her hips. She was eleven—two years from adulthood by Mandalorian standards. Nissa spent most of her days training with Din when he wasn’t off leading a full-scale war against the remnants of the Empire. Since the discovery of something known as the First Order, he’d been gone more often than not. But due to a recent injury, he’d been on Tatooine for almost half a year.</p><p>Considering there was an election coming up to determine who would take Boba’s place, the next time Din left, the whole family would go with him. Which was why Din and Boba decided it was time to train Nissa in the use of a jetpack. She was too young to be on a battlefield, but she would still benefit from watching the strategic activities aboard the Mandalorian battle cruisers. She had a knack for pattern recognition and was good at predicting how a scenario would play out in battle simulations.</p><p>Dune was the only one to raise a question about her being trained as a fighter at such a young age. She did this in the Mandalorian tapcafe in the Palace City outside of Jabba’s, and it earned her a lot of funny looks from many helmeted faces before there was a collective laugh. One of the nearby Mandalorians leaned over and said, “The Imps don’t care if you were five or fifty when they started shooting.”</p><p>Since then, Dune even helped on occasion with Nissa’s training. She taught her a version of wrestling that was common on Alderaan that used momentum to compensate for size. Boba would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud the first time Nissa flipped Dune on her back and knocked the air out of her lungs. Boba oversaw Nissa’s education, supplementing the lessons from the school with additional research assignments. Her fascination with crafting came early, and with some persuasion, the Armorer allowed her to watch her in the shop from time to time.</p><p>When Din came home with a leg that ended up requiring amputation and cybernetic prosthesis, the <em>Mand’alor</em> decided to give his general Paz Vizsla command of what had become the Mandalorian Fleet while he recovered and relearned his fighting skills with this new appendage.</p><p>Nissa’s training was good for Din in that regard. Teaching her made him slow down and be more mindful of his movements when he demonstrated his weapon katas or other martial skills. And at the end of the day when his muscles were sore and his nerves were firing in strange ways, Boba was there to help him through it.</p><p>That morning, Din brushed his somewhat shaggy hair back and said, “Dawn was the agreement, <em>Niss’ika</em>. Go eat something, and I’ll be there soon.”</p><p>She grinned and said, “Don’t take forever, <em>buir’e!</em>”</p><p>“Wouldn’t dream of it, <em>ad’ika,</em>” Boba said as she bounded away. He looked over his shoulder at Din, who just flipped the covers back and was twitching his prosthetic toes. “You’re going to keep hold of her, yes?”</p><p>Din smiled. “Yes, Boba.”</p><p>“I don’t know why this terrifies me,” Boba said with a nervous laugh.</p><p>“Because you love her and don’t want her to be hurt,” Din answered in his matter-of-fact way.</p><p>Boba sighed. “I can’t believe in another year, it will be time for her <em>verd’goten</em>.”</p><p>“That is terrifying,” Din said with a laugh. “She already plans to join the Scarlet Hawk squadron.”</p><p>“Yes, I know.” Boba sighed. “It seems a short time.”</p><p>Din smiled and pulled Boba across the bed and said, “It’s not too late to adopt 19 more. We did say we were going to do that, I recall.”</p><p>“Hey, I got the first one,” Boba said with a proud little smirk.</p><p>It was easy to say things like that now after she was in their care for seven years and not the starving, frightened kid Boba rescued from a wrecked transport carrier out on the Dune Sea after a bandit attack. She was so small and scared, but somehow she’d gotten hold of a blaster and shot him in the chest when he pulled open the door of her hidden compartment.</p><p>Boba was aware there was a child hidden there and with the shot deflected by his armor and his helmet showing that the charge was only a 7% hit, meaning the gun was almost out of power. Still, he held up his hands and knelt down to her level, crouching to make all of him visible. Normally, he wouldn’t have even been on such an excursion, but Din had been off-world for three weeks and he found he needed to shoot things when he didn’t have Din there to burn off his restless energy. All the trouble was started by a syndicate group attempting to start a small insurrection, and Boba worked with Fennec and the security forces to root out the source. The Mandalorians were handling the off-world bosses funding the operation.</p><p>“I am Boba Fett,” he said softly. He looked at how dry and cracked her lips were, the way her eyes were sunken in her skull, the way she almost shivered. He said, “I have a water flask and rations in my pocket. Are you going to shoot me if I reach for them?”</p><p>She lowered the blaster and Boba carefully placed the water and rations on the ground between them. Boba backed away and she came closer to down the water. Once the rest of the security forces reported back to him, she was beside him as if she knew he would protect her from whatever else might come her way. Boba also recognized that, yes, he would do just that.</p><p>It wasn’t until they got back to the palace and the little girl refused to leave his side at all that Boba realized that her attachment may be a bit strong. Boba took her to the medical unit for treatment, and when she started crying he found it impossible to leave. He spent the night there in an uncomfortable chair while she was rehydrated and treated for malnutrition and mild organ failure.</p><p>The following morning, the group who handled the care and homing of Tatooine’s children came to pick up the nameless child, and she was ready to <em>fight them</em> if they attempted to force her to leave Boba. And Boba did the only thing he could think to do and told them that they could run her chain-code to search for family, but since it was clearly upsetting to her to leave, he would allow her to stay with him for the time being.</p><p>When no family was found, Boba realized that despite his every belief to the contrary, he was the one who needed to inform Din Djarin that they were now parents.</p><p>Nothing would be made official until Boba spoke with Din in person, though, but that only had to wait for a few days. In the meantime, the girl—who Boba learned was named Nissa—spent every waking moment with Boba in his office, in the throne room, or trailing around after him as he went through his day. Because Boba was terrible at being completely by himself these days, he spent many nights in Fennec and Dune’s suite and they were all too happy to welcome Nissa.</p><p>When Din came home victorious to find Boba sitting in his office with Nissa perched on the corner of the desk wearing his helmet, it was as if he already knew what was about to happen. Boba and Din’s eyes met, and Boba opened his mouth to say something about the kid he found who he seemed to have imprinted on, and Din said, “It looks like we have another ceremony to perform.”</p><p>Nissa did not talk for a long time. Boba worried at first that this was an unhealthy thing for a child, but it was the Armorer from Din’s tribe who said that her silence was common among many foundlings. She encouraged him to continue to allow her to follow him and participate in his activities—which she seemed to want to do anyway. Eventually, she was certain that Nissa would start talking again.</p><p>So Boba kept bringing Nissa with him to the office and gave her little tasks to do or gadgets to take apart and try to fix. He read his reports to her out loud. When he worked on his weapons and armor, she made sure she could see what he was doing and described everything in deep detail so she could follow along. Once she became familiar with all the tools, Nissa was very much his workbench assistant.</p><p>And of course, because he was following the Mandalorian Way now, he found himself teaching her about the Six Actions of the <em>Resol’nare</em> and singing the old songs that he could remember from his childhood when it was time for her to go to bed. Now and then, she hummed along.</p><p>One night after watching Boba tuck Nissa into bed with her stuffed bantha in her small room that they added to the subchamber, Din said, “If you deny that you’re good with that kid, I will be angry.”</p><p>“It’s a matter of trauma bonding,” Boba said.</p><p>“Boba,” Din said in a firm voice. He pulled Boba to him and pressed their foreheads together. “You’re singing songs, telling bedtime stories, and I know you’ve commissioned the armorer for a junior set of beskar.”</p><p>“She likes to shoot,” Boba said with a smirk.</p><p>“And you fully understand her without her speaking a word,” Din said, punctuating with a kiss to his nose.</p><p>The next day, Din, Boba, and Nissa were in the workshop together. Nissa was off by herself working on a circuit and both Din and Boba were working on upgrades to their weapons. Suddenly there was a spark, and a small voice shouted, “Karking mud scuffer!”</p><p>Din and Boba looked at her, and Din said, “She’s your kid, Boba.”</p><p>Boba nodded and made a mental note to <em>try</em> to cuss less.</p><p>He really tried.</p><p>But by the time Nissa was eleven, she was just as foul mouthed as both her dads and surrogate aunts. She also had a mean quickdraw for someone barely 5 feet tall and was holding her own with the other Mandalorian younglings in every skill category. Din was proud of her comprehension of <em>Mando’a</em> and she told him that one day she was going to be <em>Mand’alor</em>. Boba believed it. So did a lot of Din’s warriors who witnessed her declaration.</p><p>That particular morning, the three of them walked out to the dunes beyond the boundaries of the town to a spot that Din picked. It was nothing but soft, steep sand dunes all around. Even if Nissa had a bad landing, she would likely just roll a bit and have no injuries. They weren’t far from the palace anyway, and Boba had what was likely considered embarrassing amounts of medical supplies in his pouches.</p><p>Nissa came over to him and rammed him with a shoulder, durasteel hitting durasteel with a pop. Boba dramatically stumbled and couldn’t stop the laugh from her obvious excitement. She looked far too grown up wearing her jetpack. It still looked a little big on her, but it was fitted proper, as was her armor. The armor she wore now was from the covert’s collection of youth armor. When she turned 13 and passed the <em>verde’goten</em>, she would receive her own armor that would be custom fitted and adjusted throughout her life.</p><p>Boba walked down into the cup of the dunes with Din and Nissa and stood to the side, watching as they went through the Rising Phoenix exercises. It was something that Boba never learned, something that Jango was going to teach him when he was old enough. Watching Din move through the process with Nissa was almost cathartic in a way. He now knew how this part of parenting was supposed to be done. This was the part where Din became the Mandalorian family leader.</p><p>Din watched Boba closely when Nissa first came to live with them. He would listen to the stories that Boba told her with the same interest as the kid. Sometimes when they went to bed later, Din would ask questions about the Mandalorian fables that he never heard and Boba wrote down many of them so Din could read them at his leisure, along with the songs and rhymes. That was the part of being a Mandalorian that Boba remembered experiencing because Jango raised him on those stories and songs at least to a point.</p><p>And Din was a foundling who knew what was supposed to happen next. Together, they seemed to be doing well. Nissa was brave and kind and happy, and Boba would fight the gods to keep her that way. Which is probably why his heart was in his throat the moment her jetpack ignited and she shot up into the air with Din beside her. In truth, he was a little worried for both of them because Din was still a bit shaky on his new cybernetics. After a moment, Boba took a deep breath seeing they were stable and he could hear Din talking to Nissa and getting her to stabilize as they moved in a slow circle above.</p><p>Then Din led her on a short route along the curve of the dunes, swooping now and then. Boba knew that both were focused because the only conversation was the occasional correction followed by praise. This was a lesson, after all. A first flight was not for play. Boba’s helmet gave him feedback on both of their vitals, and he knew that Nissa’s pulse was up.</p><p>They came down for a landing, and Nissa hit the sand with a little stumble. She was practically vibrating from her excitement now that it was done. She turned to Boba and shouted, “Did you see, dad!”</p><p>Boba bumped her helmet with his and said, “You did an excellent job, Nissa!”</p><p>“Very good first flight,” Din said with obvious pride. “How about we fly back to the Palace? I’m sure we can land on the roof.”</p><p>Nissa squeaked.</p><p>Boba chuckled and said, “We’re not racing. There will be no racing at all.”</p><p>The way Din cocked his head, even with the helmet, Boba knew it was <em>on. </em></p><p>Or at least it was on so long as Nissa could keep up, and then they were just buzzing around and getting her to try loops until they reached the palace, and the three took a straight climb up the side that Boba was a little nervous for the kid due to the nature of the drafts, but like an old pro she used her legs to run up the wall when she got a little close and once over the top of the battlements, Din caught her hand and guided her onto the dome. Boba dropped down beside them, the three landing softly as the second sun hit the desert with its heat.</p><p>The three of them were laughing from the pure joy of it, and Nissa let out a loud <em>whoop</em> that echoed across the rooftop and got a response from the guards, which only made her laugh again. Din sat on the lip of the wall and Boba leaned beside him. Soon Nissa took off her helmet and came over to them.</p><p>“How did I do?” she asked with a big grin.</p><p>“With a little practice, you’re going to make the Scarlet Hawks look weak,” Din said with a pat to her shoulder.</p><p>The Scarlet Hawks was a group of Mandalorian warrior women that came to Tatooine once when Nissa was a little younger, and she fell in love with their blood red armor and jetpack-enhanced fighting styles. Boba was certain her goals were: 1) be a Scarlet Hawk, and 2) become <em>Mand’alor</em>. Whatever her choices, Boba and Din would support her.</p><p>Nissa looked at Boba and asked, “Can stay in the workshop today? I need to adjust the altitude monitor on my helmet.”</p><p>Boba tried to convey through his T-visor that he was not convinced she needed a full day for those adjustments. “If you intend to spend the full day in the workshop, I’m going to give you other things to fix.”</p><p>“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she said with the exact amount of sarcasm Boba used when throwing around such phrases.</p><p>“You are going to clean so many blasters,” Boba said as he pushed off the wall.</p><p>Din laughed. “You know she has her own project going down there, right?”</p><p>“Yes, I know about her attempt to build a lightsaber,” Boba said with a shake of his head. “Did you know that according to the Jedi, that’s sort of a rite for becoming one of them.”</p><p>Nissa scoffed. “Maybe they shouldn’t just leave their plans laying around where anyone can find them.”</p><p>“You hacked into a database to find them,” Din pointed out.</p><p>“Technically, you gave it to me and didn’t know it was a data chip,” Nissa said with a smile.</p><p>The three of them walked inside and headed down to the throne room, where Fennec was lounging on the throne reading something on her holopad. She sat up upon seeing the three of them, her eyes going wide and a small smile appearing on her face as she said, “Did you fly up here?”</p><p>“Yes!” Nissa almost shouted. “It was so awesome!”</p><p>“I don’t doubt it,” Fennec said as she gave Nissa a fist bump. Fennec shook her hand like it hurt and said, “You’re getting dangerous, kid.”</p><p>“Just wait until I get the all-clear for sniper training,” Nissa said with a coy smile.</p><p>Fennec laughed.</p><p>Din said, “As soon as she’s finished with small arms and basic rifle drills, we’ll go into specialties.”</p><p>“Fine, fine,” Nissa said with a wave of her hand. “It seems so karking arbitrary to me.”</p><p>“Boba,” Din said with that tone he always had when she cussed.</p><p>Boba shrugged. “It does seem kind of karking arbitrary.”</p><p>Din just looked at him like he was considering snapping his neck. Boba shook with suppressed laughter until Din pulled him close and pressed their helmets together and he said through their private line, “<em>I swear, you are still an asshole, Fett.”</em></p><p><em>“I love you, too, Din,” </em>Boba said leaning his body into Din’s.</p><p>Nissa made a sound and said, “You two are so smushy.”</p><p>Both Din and Boba looked at her, and Din said, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”</p><p>“Hopefully you’ll figure it out before you’re in your 40s,” Fennec said with a smirk.</p><p>Nissa laughed at that.</p><p>Boba found he wasn’t terrified of the idea of Nissa finding a companion. There were times she came back from school or going to training with the other Mandalorian younglings, and she would talk about one kid more than another and he wondered idly if she was developing her first infatuation. He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to look like in a healthy child’s life. Boba found he didn’t really know anyone who grew up without experiencing significant traumatic events during their adolescence, so he had no one to talk to when it came to how to handle when/if his daughter started discussing matters of the heart.</p><p>In the end, Din just looked at him and said, “When the time comes, we will know what to do.”</p><p>As usual, Din had tasks to do at the Mandalorian compound. He was still leading a war effort despite being in a time of convalescence. Right now, the main Mandalorian fleet was picking off First Order bases every day, chasing back farther into deep space and gathering more and more ships for the Mandalorian war effort that they filled with new recruits who were loyal to the Mandalorian cause.</p><p>Now there were rumors of a massive base on par with the Death Star, and Din directed his people to go out and find it. The number of Mandalorians who spent years as bounty hunters and mercenaries meant that there were plenty with the skill to move through the dangerous places of uncharted space. Soon, they would find the base. Soon, this war would reach a crescendo.</p><p>It wasn’t until Din came back missing his lower leg that Nissa really understood how deadly and dangerous the life of the <em>Mand’alor</em> could be. As he lay recovering from the cybernetic operation, Nissa sat huddled beside Boba, wrapped up in a blanket watching Din as if he would disappear.</p><p>That night was the first time she told him how much she remembered about the bandits who attacked her parent’s transport on the Dune Sea. She remembered her mom putting her in that small space with the blaster pistol. Her mom’s last words to her were, <em>be quiet. </em>Then there was so much noise outside that she got scared and accidentally fired it twice, but no one heard it or found her.</p><p>Then she asked, “Is Din going to die?”</p><p>“No, ad’ika,” Boba said softly as he brushed her tears away, his own throat seeming to close up at the very thought. It was hard to keep his own emotions in check when he was informed that Din had been hit during battle and his leg required amputation. That he hadn’t been there was even worse, but from the beginning they knew that when he became <em>Mand’alor</em> they would be away from each other at times because of their differing responsibilities. “Din is going to be okay.”</p><p>“You’re worried,” she said.</p><p>He nodded. “I always worry when he is injured, just as I worry when you are sick or injured. It is what I do when I care for someone and there’s nothing I can do but wait until they are better.”</p><p>“What does Din do?” she asked.</p><p>“The same, but he’s better at hiding it,” Boba said with a smile.</p><p>That was months back, but there were still times that Boba woke beside Din and gave into the impulse to put his hand on his chest, to feel the slow rise and fall, to feel the steady beat of his heart, and know that there were two things in this galaxy that if he ever lost, he would likely never recover. Once upon a time, he thought the only thing that mattered to him was a ship and his armor. How things changed.</p><p>Boba settled into the day’s work, finding that there wasn’t a lot going on. He had a few requisitions to sign off on. The new hospital in Mos Eisley put in a request for cleaning droids and dust filters, and there was an infestation of womprats in the sewers of Mos Espa that needed a bounty. He sent both off to the treasury, then was about to start reading the latest reports from field agents when one of the curriers came in his office.</p><p>“Administrator Fett?” she said with her Rylothian accent.</p><p>He put aside his holopad. “Yes?”</p><p>“There’s someone here to see you,” she said.</p><p>Boba cocked his head and scanned through his itinerary on his helmet’s viewer. “I don’t have any appointments. Who is it?”</p><p>The currier looked uncomfortable. “I… I don’t know, sir. She just said that she wanted to talk to you. I told her she needed an appointment then…” She rubbed the back of her neck under her long green lekku. “I don’t know. She just said she didn’t need an appointment? And I guess I believed her. I’m sorry. Should I tell her to leave?”</p><p>Boba shook his head and said, “No, it’s fine. I’ll see who this is. Where is this person?”</p><p>“In the throne room,” she answered.</p><p>He stood and said, “That’s fine. How about you stay here and if you hear anything that sounds like a shootout, let Doc know.”</p><p>“You think it’s an assassin!” she almost shouted.</p><p>He shrugged. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility. But doesn’t hurt to plan, right? Just stay here.”</p><p>She nodded and sat in one of the chairs near the narrow window and Boba checked his blasters’ charge as he walked to the door. He also sent a message to Fennec to go make sure that Nissa was still in the workshop and make sure she stayed there. <em>Do not leave her side until I tell you otherwise.</em></p><p>The feeling of cold that hit Boba as he entered the throne room had nothing to do with the actual temperature of the room. It seemed to start <em>in</em> his bones, and it was a damned strange sensation. It was something Boba experienced once before, and that was after pissing off Darth Vader for his lack of progress in tracking down Luke Skywalker. He half expected to see a resurrected Sith Lord standing in the throne room.</p><p>Instead he saw Leia Organa, which was almost as uncanny. The way she was dressed reminded him of when she impersonated Boushh. Age hadn’t touched her, but the war certainly had. Where before he thought she looked tough, she now was sharpened and deadly. Boba had the distinct feeling she may be here to settle some old score because there was nothing about the way she looked at him that was friendly.</p><p>“I had to see it for myself,” she said, looking up at him with eyes that radiated cold. Her voice was level and icy. “I heard about all this years ago when I was still in the senate, but I didn’t believe it was Boba Fett who did it. But it really is <em>you</em>.”</p><p>“Could be anyone under this armor,” he said. In truth, several times he had stand-ins wearing armor painted exactly like his take over for a couple weeks so he could go on missions with Din. But once Nissa entered the picture, he stayed planetside.</p><p>She said, “It’s hard to forget the voice of the person who sold me out to Darth Vader.”</p><p>Boba chose to ignore the innate threat in her tone. There were many Mandalorians in the room, and all were paying attention to what was starting to feel like a showdown. He said, “I assume you are here with a purpose. Let’s get on with it, princess.”</p><p>That got the exact response he expected, and she looked like she was going to take his head off with her eyes. He wasn’t so sure, but he could almost swear he felt the briefest hint of tightening around his throat.</p><p>“I’m not here to kill you,” she said after a deep breath. “I’m here to deliver a message.”</p><p>“Then deliver it,” he said, because the longer she stood there the colder he felt. There was something about her that nagged at his brain. Something about her face, the set of her jaw. It reminded him of someone.</p><p>“Can we speak alone?” she asked.</p><p>Boba checked with Fennec to confirm that she was with Nissa, then said to Leia, “Yes. My office is this way.”</p><p>Once alone and with the guards posted outside, Leia walked to the narrow window and looked out to the desert as Boba propped against the opposite wall, certain he would be able to draw on her before she could him if this was not actually a private <em>conversation</em>. There was something about her that was vaguely terrifying that he didn’t feel the first time meeting her. The first time, he respected her the way he respected fellow warriors. Now, he respected her the way he respected a sarlacc.</p><p>“The war never really ended for most of us, did it?” she said, her eyes fixed somewhere in the distance. “I know it’s followed me everywhere I’ve gone for…” She laughed without humor. “It feels like ages. How are you still alive?”</p><p>“Fate decided I should live,” he answered simply. “Seems to have decided the same for you.”</p><p>She looked at him. “I’ve heard so many stories about you and it is hard to believe. I had you investigated over and over. They removed me from the Outer Rim counsels because I wasn’t impartial enough when it came to you.” She laughed. “That’s what makes this meeting almost comical.”</p><p>“Care to share why?” he said, not moving from his post.</p><p>She took a deep breath and Boba wondered what it was that kept her from drawing the blaster on her hip. Something or someone was keeping her from unleashing all that anger. She finally said, “Since I’m a former head of state and you are the—what is it, Planetary Administrator? It seemed logical that I come to you to let you know that your spouse? He needs to go to the old Lars homestead. There he will find something he has likely wished to find for a while.”</p><p>Boba scoffed and said, “Let me guess, he’s to come alone? You do realize who he is, yes?”</p><p>“I was told to go to <em>you</em>,” Leia said almost through her teeth.</p><p>He studied her. There was something about the way she looked that implied a lot of distress. Boba asked, “Are you in danger?”</p><p>Leia looked insulted. “No! I am annoyed. And you are not helping matters.”</p><p>“I apologize,” he said without a hint of sorrow. “I just want to know the source of these instructions, as I value the safety of my spouse and my <em>Mand’alor’s</em> safety above all else.”</p><p>“Then give him this,” she said as she tossed an object across the room.</p><p>Boba snatched it out of the air and opened his hand to see a mythosaur necklace. It took Boba a split second to realize what this meant. He nodded to her and said, “I’ll inform him immediately.”</p><p>An hour later, Din was beside Boba in the transport base staring at the mythosaur necklace with his mouth hanging open as Boba relayed his conversation with Leia Organa concerning the location of the Lars Homestead near the town of Anchorhead out on the Dune Sea. It wasn’t even noon yet, and there were transport ships at their disposal that could make the trip in short time.</p><p>“We’ll all go,” Din said after a moment of processing. He swallowed hard. He looked lost again.</p><p>Boba put his hands on Din’s shoulders and said, “I’ll be with you.”</p><p>“I know,” Din said, his hands coming up to hold Boba’s wrists. “I just… I don’t know if I can say goodbye again.”</p><p>Back when it first happened, Boba had no frame of reference for the loss of a child. Now with Nissa, Boba couldn’t fathom the pain it would cause. Even if it were for her own good, he knew it would hurt. When she was an adult, he knew she would go off on her own, and that was fine. But not when she was his little one. That would break him.</p><p>“If this is a kidnapping, I’m ready,” Boba said.</p><p>Din kissed him and said, “Don’t tempt me.”</p><p>When the Clan Mudhorn gathered in their transport and headed out towards the Dune Sea, Boba and Din caught Nissa up on the events of the day. They told her before about Grogu and the events that led up to Boba and Din joining forces and eventually joining lives. It was somewhat of an anniversary tradition. Din still considered Grogu part of the family, and it was a chance for the whole clan to be together for the first time since it grew by two more.</p><p>The trip was two hours, and along the way they listened to music and Din did his best to sing along to growlcore which only made Nissa cackle. They passed a sun bleached skeleton of a juvenile krayt dragon, and Nissa asked to hear about Din being swallowed by a dragon again. Boba pointed out a couple of interesting rock formations that definitely led to sarlacc nests.</p><p>Then the towers of a moisture farm came into view and Din became quiet. Boba could see a black robed figure walking along the line from one domed structure to another, cape blowing in the breeze. Even from a distance, he was certain it was Luke Skywalker.</p><p>“Kriff, it really is him,” Boba said, unable to stop himself.</p><p>“Yeah,” Din said.</p><p>Nissa looked at the Jedi and said, “He looks so… small.”</p><p>“I watched him take out a battalion of Darktroopers,” Din said with admiration. Boba had to admit it was an impressive feat. “Jedi have their strength in this thing called the Force.”</p><p>The transport came to a stop and Boba looked at Din who had his hands on the controls as if he didn’t plan to release them. Boba put his hand over Din’s on the regulator and said, “Let’s do this.”</p><p>Outside, Skywalker was waiting to greet them. Boba half expected the same ice cold fury upon seeing him that he got from Leia, instead Skywalker just ushered him along with Din and Nissa down the stairs into the subterranean housing structure where several younglings dressed in brown, white, and grey robes were seated around. Some were reading, others seemed to be meditating, and a few were eating.</p><p>One of them, a small green one, came running out as soon as Din set a foot on the dusty ground. Din knelt down and scooped up the small being, his helmet coming off as he did so. Boba took it and watched at the green child studied Din’s face. There were a few changes after so many years. There was more grey at his temples, a couple more scars on his cheek.</p><p>“Father?” Grogu said in a rough voice. “It is you?”</p><p>Din’s eyes brightened. “You can talk now?”</p><p>“Yes,” he answered, a little smile on his face.</p><p>Luke said, “We’ve worked hard to unlock his vocabulary.”</p><p>“Through meditation, yes,” Grogu said. “Much training I have had.”</p><p>Din smiled and asked, “Should I put you down?”</p><p>“No,” he answered. “Good, this is.”</p><p>“I knew another of his kind,” Luke said with a distant smile. “He always made me carry him everywhere. I think it’s something with their species.”</p><p>Grogu gave him a narrow-eyed look. Then he looked at Boba and said, “Of you I dreamed. Once. Long ago. Touched by the Force, you are.”</p><p>Boba stood very still. “I’m what?”</p><p>“Who she is?” he asked reaching towards Nissa.</p><p>“I’m Nissa,” she said, reaching up to let him hold her hand. “I’m your sister now.”</p><p>He grinned, showing his pointy teeth. “Sister.”</p><p>Luke said, “We were preparing to have the evening meal. I hope you plan to join us?”</p><p>Din was still mesmerized, so Boba said, “Of course.”</p><p>Boba, Din, and Nissa found themselves working with the others in the small complex. There were other parents and other padawans to be found, all of them working together to feed the small troop of learners and their supports. Nissa was quick to attach herself to her small-big brother—who was equally happy to have someone to perch on.</p><p>They learned that this was Luke’s family home. Boba knew that Skywalker was originally from Tatooine, but he didn’t know a whole lot beyond that. The decision to come to this place happened after there was a bad run in on Yavin and it came to Luke’s attention that Tatooine was a well protected place thanks to the Mandalorian influence.</p><p>Never mind that Mandalorians and Jedi were onetime enemies.</p><p>Din being the man he was, promised without much prompting, “You’ll be safe here and well supplied. Anything you need, it’s yours. You’ll be safe inside of the Mandalorian Sector. Besides, we’re about to destroy this First Order.”</p><p>“I’ve heard,” Luke said. By this time the younglings had gone off with their families and the Jedi, Boba, and Din were seated around a small firepit while Grogu and Nissa played together. He smiled and said, “When I first met you aboard Moff Gideon’s ship, I had a feeling I was looking into the eyes of someone who would change the fate of the galaxy. I had no idea how significant it would be.”</p><p>“How so?” Din asked.</p><p>Luke looked at the fire and said, “A person strong with the Force can experience many things, echoes of the past and visions of the future. I saw a future where this First Order corrupted my family from within and destroyed the galaxy in ways the Empire only wished. That future no longer exists largely due to the actions of you, Din Djarin.”</p><p>Boba looked at Din, thinking back. He thought about some of the other bounty hunters he knew in his life—like Bossk and Dengar, people who cared only about the payout and not a damn about the human cost of anything. Hell, Boba knew he was just as bad as any of them. Din claimed he was the same way right up until Grogu. He fully intended to walk away from the child, to leave him in the hands of the Empire. He was ready to leave, to just get blitzed on spice and forget as he had many times before when a job was particularly bad.</p><p>But Din chose a different path. One that cost him a lot along the way, and Boba knew how much it cost him and how long it took him to recover and rewrite his thinking. There were times he still felt uncomfortable showing his face to other Mandalorians, and now and then he flinched when others took their helmets off in front of him. It was not a simple process, despite learning that the vast majority of Mandalorians followed the Way in a less strict manner.</p><p>Becoming <em>Mand’alor</em>—that was a very intense time.</p><p>Fenn Shysa spent the weeks between the celebration on Tatooine and the duel educating Din (and Boba by extension) on the political landscape of the Mandalorian Clans going back several decades. It was enlightening and Din spent many days in near silence thinking about all of it as the duel approached. Boba didn’t press him on his thoughts; he knew it was a lot of information to take in. Boba knew relatively little about Darth Maul’s involvement with Death Watch.</p><p>A few nights before they left, Boba woke to find the bed beside him empty and a note in Din’s scratchy handwriting, <em>On the battlements. </em>Boba found him leaning against the rail, looking up at the sky with his hair blowing in the gentle night breeze. He saw Boba and gave a small smile as he came to stand beside him.</p><p>“Can’t sleep?” Boba said, knowing the answer.</p><p>Din didn’t answer. Instead he put his hand over Boba’s, brushing his thumb back and forth over the side of his wrist as he moved a little closer and returned his attention to the sky. Din needed some air, sky, and silence, but he didn’t want to be alone—otherwise, he wouldn’t have left the note. These moods were familiar now. Boba knew that when or if he wanted to talk, he would.</p><p>By the time Din decided to share his thoughts, the sky was starting to brighten on the horizon. He and Boba were laying on their backs, staring up at the sky when Din said, “I will not be responsible for another civil war among our people.”</p><p>Boba could hear the determination in his voice. It was not worry. It was a decision.</p><p>Din continued, “We’ve been at war with ourselves, with Jedi, with the Empire.” He rolled his head to the side to look at Boba and said, “I’ve heard so much about all these rivalries and other kriff. I grew up in <em>hiding</em> not just because of the Empire, but because of karking feuds and wars that have been happening for generations. Mandalorians are Mandalorians, regardless of their origins. <em>That</em> is who we are supposed to be. Our future should be better. Imagine what we could be if we truly united.”</p><p>“You’re an idealist,” Boba said, and it was not an insult.</p><p>Din kissed his nose and said, “I learned from the best.”</p><p>“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” Boba said before rolling on top of him to kiss him properly. Din gripped his hips and pressed up against him. They came damn close to getting caught naked on the roof by the guards that morning, but Din and Boba managed to disappear with only some awkward bodyprints as evidence.</p><p>When it came time to travel to Zanbar, they did not spend their time rutting like mad as Fennec and Dune joked they would over drinks. Instead, Din spent a lot of his time meditating, doing weapon katas, and resting. Boba kept him fed, hydrated, and mostly relaxed during the journey.</p><p>Din was not used to being referred to as <em>Mand’alor </em>by anyone, and it took him a minute to realize he was who the captain of the Mandalorian Protectors was speaking to once they reached the end of the ramp.</p><p>“Clan Kryze is positioned at the opposite end of the field, <em>Mand’alor</em>,” the captain said. “Many other clans are here to watch. Word has spread that today will decide who leads our clans.”</p><p>After a moment, Din nodded. He was outfitted with a variety of weapons, including his beskar spear, a vibroblade, blasters that had been fine-tuned, and of course the Darksaber was on his hip. Considering Boba watched Din fight enemies with low quality weapons, practice daily with his good weapons, and often sparred with him, he knew exactly how deadly he could be. Then again, he didn’t know much about how Bo-Katan could fight.</p><p>Boba also knew that Din had no desire to fight this duel at all, and for that he wished that Bo-Katan would simply be sucked out an airlock and save everyone the trouble.</p><p>As they walked with their honor guard through the rows of ships, Boba took note of the many banners and sigils on the armor and the patterns painted on helmets. Before reaching the prepared dueling ground where the clan elders waited, Boba’s helmet registered over two hundred unique groups; he didn’t even realize there were that many clans to be found, let alone that they would <em>be</em> here. Then again, the Mandalorian Sector was once the biggest stretch in the galaxy connecting the Core to the Outer Rim. </p><p>Bo-Katan and Koska were waiting with the rest of their clan at the far end of the small fighting arena. She, too, was well-armed and carrying what looked like a lightsaber on her hip of some sort. It was a smart move, considering the Darksaber would slice through her alloy armor like butter.</p><p>“I see you still travel with a clone,” she said loud enough that all could hear.</p><p>Din said, “I travel with a Mandalorian who is my <em>riduur</em>.”</p><p>The visible look of confusion on her face was close to priceless. She scoffed and said, “And you think yourself fit to lead.”</p><p>“I didn’t at first,” Din said. “But then I realized something.”</p><p>“And what’s that?” she sneered.</p><p>“Our people must unite,” he answered. “That will never happen if we keep finding ways to divide ourselves. I’ve met a lot of Mandalorians since I last saw you, from many clans who have travelled to Tatooine to meet me. And I realize there’s not much difference between any of us. And just like before, I’d rather not fight you over the Darksaber.”</p><p>“Then you came a long way to waste everyone’s time,” Bo-Katan hissed.</p><p>“No, I didn’t,” he answered. “I hoped that you perhaps gave enough of a damn about the rest of our people that you would recognize the need to unite instead of kill each other.”</p><p>“I will not unite with you and your pets.” Bo-Katan put her helmet on and drew the lightsaber from her hip. She said, “Draw your weapon.”</p><p>Boba could almost feel the anger radiating from Din at that moment. Or maybe that was just his own feelings about it all.</p><p>Their clash was merciless.</p><p>Bo-Katan Kryze was a well trained warrior, taught by the best instructors to be found as the child of Mandalorian royalty with her skills honed on the battlefield fighting against her own people and against the Empire. Din Djarin was raised by a warrior collective who followed the ancient ways of the Mandalorians, who spent years working in solitude under constant threat. Boba knew exactly how deadly Din could be.</p><p>But standing at the side of the arena, watching someone he loved fight against another with a lightsaber brought back memories he did not like. His body twitched with every electric clash of their blades. Never in his life had he felt more helpless than perhaps when he was 10 years old and watching his father fight a Jedi.</p><p>He was so focused on the fight, Boba did not realize there was a new person standing beside him. He likely would not have noticed at all until that person gripped his elbow with her hand. He glanced to see someone wearing a brassy helmet with horn embellishments. Boba turned his head towards her and she looked at him, and both returned their attention to the fight. He had no idea who she was. Regardless, he put his hand over hers and found it was easier to not want to scream when Din took a blow that sent him tumbling.</p><p>While he knew that the fight only lasted perhaps 5 minutes, it felt like an eternity before Bo-Katan lost her grip on the jade-colored lightsaber and found herself on the flat of her back staring up at Din with the Darksaber at her throat.</p><p>“Yield,” Din said with one hand holding his side. Boba could see blood trickling down over his armor.</p><p>Bo-Katan glared up at him. “Never.”</p><p>Din adjusted his hold on the Darksaber and said in a tone that was simultaneously threatening and pleading, “Don’t make me have to kill you.”</p><p>Bo-Katan raised her chin, exposing her neck.</p><p>It was then that Koska Reeves stepped out and announced, “She yields! Clan Kryze recognizes you as <em>Mand’alor.</em>”</p><p>Din looked at Koska.</p><p>“No!” Bo-Katan shouted.</p><p>“His victory is honorable,” she said to Bo-Katan.</p><p>Boba’s hand was on his blaster, ready to draw should Bo-Katan make any sudden moves. He could see several scenarios where she could use the distraction of her clan member to her advantage. There was tension in the air that everyone in attendance could feel, and Boba knew that some of them were probably on the side of <em>cut off her head</em>—and he would be lying if at that moment, he wasn’t with them.</p><p>Then Bo-Katan took a breath and said in a voice that was tight and barely audible through her helmet, “I yield.”</p><p>Mandalorians do not cheer at these events.</p><p>Instead, the crowd in attendance, almost in a wave, dropped down to one knee and saluted Din. Boba was the only one who did not drop down because he didn’t know that he was supposed to do that. And by the time he realized that everyone was on their knees, they were already saying in near unison, “<em>I know you as Mand’alor</em>.”</p><p>Boba was completely mesmerized by everything that was happening. He almost didn’t feel the woman beside him nudge him, and then as if on autopilot, he walked out to stand beside Din, who met him with a Keldabe Kiss. Boba wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt so much relief.</p><p>He could smell Din’s blood and his helmet was picking up Din’s vitals. Boba said on their comm, “<em>You’re hurt</em>.”</p><p>“<em>I’ll live</em>,” Din said, pressing against him tighter. His voice, though tight, had that hint of humor as he said, “<em>I guess it’s my turn to make a speech.”</em></p><p>Boba nodded and took his place beside Din. Everyone was back on their feet by then, and they were clearly waiting for something from their new leader.</p><p>“I never asked for this,” meaning the Darksaber, which Din held up as if it were just another blaster. Boba smiled behind the helmet. “Yet here I am. I don’t know what you know about me. Some of you I’ve met on Tatooine. Some may have heard stories.” He took a breath and Boba could hear a rattle that he didn’t like. He stepped a little closer, subtly taking Din’s weight. He continued with a strong voice, “I was a foundling. Raised in the fighting core. A bounty hunter. The Darksaber came to me because the Empire still exists and I hunted them to save <em>my </em>foundling. Along the way, I learned that the Empire wants to clone Force sensitive beings.”</p><p>Din looked at Bo-Katan who was now with her clan at the edge of the arena. “I don’t give a kriff if you have issues with other clans, or how you practice being a Mandalorian. I’ve seen what we can do together when we put petty differences aside. If you want to follow me, follow me in shutting down the karking Empire forever. That is my mission now that this business has ended.”</p><p>The response was immediate and unified as an eruption of voices echoed across the arena, “This is the Way.”</p><p>Boba, maybe for the first time in his life, said, “This is the Way.”</p><p>He even meant it.</p><p>What followed was a celebration of sorts that centered on the new <em>Mand’alor</em>, who received medical treatment at the center of the arena from Fenn Shysa’s doctors as clan leaders came to meet their new leader. Boba did his best to not be too tense, and it was easier with the Protectors around. It was clear that many of the clans had kept an eye on Din for a while, and many were made aware of him through a system of covert communication that existed through the ones that remained close during the years they spent in hiding.</p><p>Then a behemoth of a man came forward, and Din stopped his conversation with one of the clan leaders and gasped out, “Paz?”</p><p>Boba looked up at the massive tank of a Mandalorian and knew immediately that this was someone from Din’s tribe. He heard stories from Din about growing up with a man named Paz Vizsla in the covert and knew that the two were friends who became rivals over the years. Many times he wondered what it would be like to meet Din’s adopted sibling, but imagined that it would not happen anytime soon. Maybe ever, considering the losses on Navarro.  </p><p>“Yeah, <em>vod</em>,” Paz said as he crossed his arms and looked at Din. At this point, Din and most of the other Mandalorians—including Boba—had removed their helmets. There were a few exceptions, including this one. He said, “I had to come see for myself when I heard the Darksaber was found.”</p><p>“Did you know it was me?” Din asked, and Boba could hear the tension in his voice.</p><p>Paz laughed softly, then took off his helmet revealing an almost boyish face. Dark skin, clean shaven, black curls. Truly, he and Din could have been biological brothers. He smiled and said, “I’ve followed the stories. Heard about you on Tatooine and your <em>riduur</em>. Congratulations, by the way.”</p><p>Din smiled. “Thank you, <em>ner vod.</em>”</p><p>“I guess this means you’re <em>Mand’alor</em> now.” Paz laughed and said, “I always knew you’d eventually one-up me where I’d never win. Congratulations on that, too.”</p><p>“If you’re here to challenge me,” Din said on a laugh, “At least let me nap first.”</p><p>Paz looked at Boba and said, “I don’t think I want to do that. I think your <em>riduur</em> would take my head before I’d get a shot.”</p><p>“You’re a smart man,” Boba said, unable to keep his voice from holding the innate threat. Despite all of Shysa’s people and the numerous clan leaders who swore their allegiance, he hadn’t taken his weapons offline and his hand was itching to draw his blaster. He may have spent months in administration, but he and Din still trained regular. He would never lose his skill, and he’d be damned if he’d let a <em>karking</em> Vizsla lay their hands on Din. The bastard may be twice his size, but Boba fought bigger.</p><p>“I promise you, Boba Fett, I am not interested in renewing our clans’ feud,” Paz said with his hands raised. “It is all <em>cin vhetin</em> to me.”</p><p>Boba nodded. “Then it is a clean slate to me as well.”</p><p>Din looked from Paz to Boba, and said, “<em>Dank farrik, </em>Boba, is there anyone in this karking galaxy you don’t in some way know?”</p><p>“At this point, doubtful,” Boba answered.</p><p>Paz laughed, then asked, “So, do you want me to go gut Kryze or—”</p><p>“No,” Din said. “The fight is done. Everyone witnessed her loss and her admission of defeat. I don’t want more bloodshed.”</p><p>“<em>Mand’alor</em> the Merciful,” Paz said with another hearty laugh.</p><p>Paz remained with them, and soon a few other members of the covert appeared. Many of them had been on their own for a long time, and most followed the Way of their new <em>Mand’alor</em> and long time brother, and removed their helmets to greet him. Boba didn’t expect to find himself in the middle of a family reunion and never really wanted to be part of one, but in the end it was kind of enjoyable. Paz told stories about growing up with Din, most of which were the sort that only a brother would tell.</p><p>Eventually, it was decided that it was time to return to their clan’s coverts across the galaxy and spread the word that the <em>Mand’alor </em>is in search of Imperial holdouts. For the time being, Din and Boba would return to Tatooine. The two walked to the cluster of ships with Paz behind them and an honor guard of Mandalorian Protectors as escort, to where <em>Slave I </em>waited among the ships of the Mandalorian Protectors, where Din stopped in his tracks upon seeing the woman with the brassy horned helmet at the base of the ramp of their ship.</p><p>Boba looked at him and knew instantly that he knew this person.</p><p>Din walked to her and without hesitation, removed his helmet and met the predator-bird eyes of her helm unflinching.</p><p>“I greet you, <em>Mand’alor</em>,” she said with a subtle bow.</p><p>He returned the gesture. Boba could see the tension in his jaw and he stayed at his side.</p><p>“Your journey has brought much of our people together,” she said as she stepped closer, her right hand gesturing to Paz. Boba noticed that her left arm ended at the elbow. “You finished your quest.”</p><p>“Yes, <em>ner Alor,</em>” Din sad in a steady voice.</p><p>She studied him.  </p><p>Din remained stoic. At least until she removed her helmet, revealing the face of pale Zabrak with dulled, blunted horns. She had no markings like those of her home world, and Boba wondered if she was born into the Tribe. Mandalorian is not a race or species. Din’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of her, and Boba could only imagine what was going through his mind seeing the leader of his clan remove her helmet in front of him. She set the brassy colored helmet at his feet.</p><p>She said, “In the time since last we stood together, I have wandered the galaxy in search of the Tribe. I have found only the tales of you and your deeds. You lead the clans. You now lead the Tribe. I am not your <em>Alor</em>. <em>You</em> are <em>Mand’alor.</em> This is the Way.”</p><p>“This is the Way,” Din said in a voice that was strong despite the confused look on his face.</p><p>Her attention turned to Boba and she said, “I am sorry I did not introduce myself earlier.”</p><p>Din looked at him.</p><p>“She stood beside me during the duel,” Boba said. “I did not know who she was.”</p><p>Her eyes went to the signet on Boba’s chest, then looked from Boba to Din and asked, “Have you been joined in the custom of our people?”</p><p>“We sort of made it up,” Din said, giving Boba a smile.</p><p>She looked between them and asked, “Do you know the rite?”</p><p>“No,” Din said.</p><p>Her hand extended to Boba and he took it as he looked at Din who looked at him with a sort of wild expression that was a perfect sum of all that had happened that day. The smile he had was laced with blood from wounds that were still in the process of healing. Somehow, this seemed like the perfect time to make everything truly official.</p><p>“Repeat after me,” she said softly so that only the two of them could hear her mellow voice. “<em>Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.</em>”</p><p>Boba and Din did as they were told, both smiling like they were a little confused by it all and certainly glad to say the words: <em>We are one together, we are one when parted, we share all, will will raise warriors.</em></p><p>Now, Nissa played with Grogu in the soft lights of the courtyard, dodging the shots of his training orb while Grogu demonstrated his new lightsaber skills with deflecting the shots. Boba put his hand on Din’s knee and Din covered his hand with his.</p><p>“You can stay as long as you want,” Luke said with a smile. “There’s guest rooms and there’s a freighter bringing more supplies in the morning.”</p><p>“Anything you need can be provided,” Din said.</p><p>Boba nodded. “It would be nothing to send supply caravans this way. I have people that can be trusted.”</p><p>Luke studied him a moment, then said, “Yes, I know. You are trustworthy, which is something I’ll need to figure out how to convey to my companions. They don’t trust you.”</p><p>“I got that impression,” Boba said with a huff of a laugh. “And I can’t really blame your friend for feeling the way she does.”</p><p>“Yes, my sister knows how to hold a grudge,” Luke said.</p><p>Din, who had been focused on the kids, looked at Luke and said, “Sister?”</p><p>Boba studied Luke’s face, the shape of his jaw and angle of his cheekbones. His nose and the set of his eyes, and he frowned. “I don’t see it.”</p><p>Luke laughed. “Yeah, well supposedly I look more like our mother and she—” He almost winced. “She looks a lot like our father.”</p><p>“Your father was a Jedi, right?” Boba said, and Din gave him that look he always gave him when he was certain Boba was about to know someone.</p><p>“He was a Jedi named Anakin Skywalker,” Luke said.</p><p>Boba nodded. The name was familiar. He knew he’d heard it somewhere before, but most Jedi records were purged long ago except for a few hard copies that were kept by dedicated librarians on distant planets. He wondered if that was why Leia’s face looked familiar when she was angry. Maybe that was when she reminded him of her father the most.</p><p>Din said, “I will be on Tatooine for a while longer. I will not be able to stay here all the time, but I would like to visit often.”</p><p>“That would be wonderful,” Luke said with a beatific smile.</p><p>“Yes,” came the voice of Leia as she stepped out into the courtyard. “That will be wonderful.”</p><p>Luke looked at her as if this were something they had discussed already. Boba had to wonder what he did to get on the Jedi’s good side. Or maybe he was reading this wrong. Regardless, Luke said to Din, “Din Djarin, this is Leia Organa, General of the New Republic.”</p><p>Din stood and gave her a bow and she did the same with him. He said, “I’ve heard stories of your bravery and skill in battle.”</p><p>“That’s a decent compliment coming from Mandalorians I’m told,” she said. She didn’t have the same open contempt on her face as she did earlier with Boba, and Boba was happy about that. Din didn’t deserve to be judged harshly. Leia said, “I’ve wished to speak with you for some time. It was only recently I discovered we had a mutual friend.” She glanced—<em>glared</em>—at Boba, and added, “Or two.”</p><p>“Your Republic has contacted me before with a desire to share information about the First Order,” Din said. “But they don’t really understand how we work. I tried to explain to the ambassador they sent that we welcome the Republic’s help fighting the First Order, but I’m not going to go to some foolish ceremony and waste time when there’s work to be done.”</p><p>Leia smiled a genuine smile, and Boba realized that there was likely no one immune to Din’s natural charm. She said, “Honestly, I can’t stand all that kriff either. It drives me mad these days. I’m almost glad my political career is over.”</p><p>Boba frowned at that. He hadn’t paid much attention to the activities in Coruscant in recent years, mainly because it didn’t affect his day to day life anymore. When he was a bounty hunter, he needed to know how his target’s capture might disturb the galactic landscape and charge accordingly. He stayed well informed. But now, he had no idea why Leia Organa, literal hero of the Rebellion, would no longer have a political career.</p><p>
  <em>Probably something Han did. </em>
</p><p>“It is best that you know this,” Luke said. “I can sense that you would be uncomfortable to learn later the truth, especially—”</p><p>“Enough build up,” Leia almost snapped. She looked at Din and said, “Our father was Darth Vader, and it has become somewhat well known.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh kriff.</em>
</p><p>Din, who had studied all aspects of the galactic conflict thoroughly, could only say, “What?”</p><p>Boba heard this and decided that, yes, he absolutely understood why Leia had that predatory look in her eyes. He was not so unkind as to think it had to do with being the blood-kin of a bastard like the Sith Lord. He was however smart enough to know that the galaxy was damned lucky that Vader chose to go after his son, because his daughter was the one truly in his image.</p><p>Knowing there was a good chance he was risking his neck, Boba said, “There’s something I was told once by one of the tribe leaders after Nissa came into our lives. It is an old Mandalorian saying: No one cares who your father was, only what kind of father you become.” Leia and Luke were giving him a look that showed they were siblings. He continued, “Considering everything you’ve accomplished, you’ve proven yourself to be better than he was. The rest can go to hell.”</p><p>“You thought I was here to kill you earlier,” Leia said flatly.</p><p>He shrugged. “Not like I don’t have it coming.”</p><p>As everyone started to separate off to go to bed, Boba was stopped by Luke and he found himself frowning at the Jedi who looked at him with the same peaceful expression that he seemed to have perfected over the years.</p><p>“There is something I’d like to discuss with you,” Luke said as he crossed his arms, hiding them inside the deep folds of his black robe.</p><p>Boba looked towards Din who had Nissa on his back and Grogu in his arms. To Luke, he said, “Make it quick.”</p><p>“Were you ever tested when you were young for Force sensitivity?” he asked.</p><p>He had the strong urge to feel offended. “Excuse me?”</p><p>“I can feel that you’ve been touched by the Force,” Luke said gently. “It’s… difficult to explain. But I would be interested to test you.”</p><p>“I’d rather not,” Boba said, and he started to walk away.</p><p>Luke asked, “Have you ever wondered if maybe something bigger was guiding you? Playing a part in your actions?”</p><p>He paused and looked back at the Jedi. Boba gestured over his shoulder and said, “The biggest thing in the galaxy—to me—are those three walking that way. I don’t need to be part of anything bigger than that.”</p><p>“If you ever change your mind,” Luke said, not finishing the thought.</p><p>Boba smirked and said, “Considering everything, I think whether I want to or not, I’ll see you again Skywalker.”</p><p>Luke laughed at that and then turned on his heels and walked on.</p><p>Boba caught up with Din in time to help nestle the kids into bed. He figured they would end up nesting for the night with all of them piling together, but Grogu wanted to snuggle with Nissa and she was extremely happy about that. When they closed the door, the two were still talking and Boba was sure they would not sleep much. Neither he nor Din cared. The two of them lay down in their flight suits listening to the chatter punctuated by occasional giggles, both smiling and laughing from the joy that seemed to permeate the air.</p><p>Din hugged him around the waist and moved his leg up over Boba’s. The cybernetics felt different beneath the fabric, but Boba never hesitated to touch them the same way he did any other part of Din. That was something Boba found a lot of joy in helping Din become comfortable with. Once the organic parts were healed and bonded with the cybernetics, Boba demonstrated that he did not find his spouse any less attractive for his replacement parts. Din still stared at the prosthesis with suspicion almost every time he got dressed, but he refused to have it covered with a skin sheath.</p><p>“What did the Jedi want?” Din asked after he had snuzzled down onto Boba’s shoulder and Boba had his fingers playing with his long hair.</p><p>“To be a pest,” Boba said with a snort. Then he said, “He wanted to test me for Force sensitivity.”</p><p>Din looked up at him through his dark lashes. “Are you going to do it?”</p><p>“No.” Boba kissed his forehead. “I plan to just leave that business to the Jedi.”</p><p>“Good,” Din said as he again rested his head on Boba’s shoulder. His grip tightened a little, then he said, “How long do you think we could stay here? Away from everything?”</p><p>Boba massaged his skull with his blunt fingertips. “I’ll send a comm to Fennec to cover all my meetings. We’ll stay for as long as you want. No reason to rush anywhere.”</p><p>Din gripped Boba’s shirt and said, “Someday soon, when this war is over and the Imps are completely gone for good—you and I, we’re going to just find somewhere to watch sunsets.”</p><p>Boba pressed his forehead to Din’s and whispered, “Sounds nice.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>THE END!</p><p>THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!</p><p>I almost just wrote a whole other fic. Almost. I really wanted to. I wanted to write the complete "How Din Djarin Change Star Wars History AU" but.... Yeah.... I'm not that ambitious. This is as ambitious as I'm going to get. Mainly because we have come to Teacher Job Hunting Season, and I kind of need to focus on that. </p><p>However I have some random shit from this that I just cut out because I couldn't figure out how to make it work with the narrative, but they're just funny scenes that in my opinion deserve to be read by others. I'll probably post those when I get them cleaned up as "ficlets."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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